


Cast Aside

by IlanaNight



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Dark Dipper Pines, M/M, eventual billdip
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-19
Updated: 2015-09-15
Packaged: 2018-04-10 02:11:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 23,562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4373237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IlanaNight/pseuds/IlanaNight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For there is nothing more dangerous than a man cast aside by those he treasures most. Without fail, another will find him and care for him and twist him to their ends.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Shards of Ice

**Author's Note:**

> I'm gonna preface this with the fact that there will be an awful lot of violence later in the fic, but for the moment you've got some calm~ the chapters with violent scenes will be noted as such.

“Good night, stupid.”

 

And Dipper turned over with a smile on his face, truly excited for the first time in weeks. The Author was here, was _related_ to them, even, and he’d get to ask all of his questions. Even if Stanford had seemed standoffish today, Dipper was certain it was just shock. Once he’d slept a night in his own bed, he’d surely be glad to discuss the new pages Dipper had added to the journal, and the secrets he hadn’t seen yet.

 

It was with these excited thoughts that he finally drifted off to a sleep that was, for once, bereft of nightmares and entirely free of any sign of the demon that haunted him.

 

When Dipper awoke, the bed across from him was empty, but that was nothing unusual. Mabel was a serious morning person, Dipper was almost convinced she didn’t actually need sleep and existed purely on glitter.

 

Hopping out of bed, Dipper dressed in a flash, grabbing the journal from his bedside table and throwing his hat on to his head, hair a mess under the brim. Who cared what he looked like? Today he was going to ask the Author all about his journals! Today he’d finally get to talk to someone who understood, who knew what he was going through.

 

Dipper sped down the stairs, nearly tripping several times in his haste, clutching the journal in both of his hands and forgoing the railing. When he reached the bottom of the stairs, though, the house was empty. No one was seated at the kitchen table, and there was a note beside a plate of pancakes covered in saran wrap.

 

_Dip’n’Dot,_

_Grunkle Ford’s taking me out to see the fairy caves! We left early because he says fairies are most active in the morning and the evening, and he wants me to be able to see all of them. You were still sleeping and we didn’t want to wake you, but I made you these pancakes- they’re blueberry! I don’t know when we’ll be home but I’ll tell you all about the fairies, promise!_

_Lots of love,_   
_Your Favorite Sister_

 

The smile that had spread across his face upon waking faltered and Dipper crumpled the note, throwing it into the trash can before sticking the plate of pancakes into the microwave. They were cold, which meant that Ford and Mabel had been gone for at least an hour and showed no signs of returning anytime soon. Grunkle Stan was probably getting ready to open the Mystery Shack gift shop and wouldn’t want unnecessary company.

 

And so Dipper ate his slightly soggy microwaved pancakes in somber silence, fork scraping against the plate. Idly, he flipped through the pages of the journal, comparing his newly inked pages to the Author’s worn ones, the different handwriting, the simpler art style, the new details.

 

New details he was supposed to be sharing with Ford. Who was out taking Mabel on an adventure without even thinking to invite him.

 

Unbidden, a flash of memory from the night before came to him, watching Ford lean down to shake Mabel’s hand, a smile on his face.

 

_“I like this one. She’s weird.”_

 

A pang of jealousy had struck him then, but he’d brushed it off. Mabel was more outgoing, that was all. Once the Author got to know him, Dipper was sure they’d get along swimmingly. They had more in common, after all, Mabel wasn’t nearly as wrapped up in the town’s mysteries as he was.

 

But maybe he’d been wrong, it certainly looked that way, anyway.

 

Breakfast eaten, Dipper went about washing the dishes- both his own and the ones Mabel had left for him before leaving this morning- before wandering into the living room and settling in the armchair, TV set to some program he was only half paying attention to. If Grunkle Stan needed his help, he’d yell. That’s what he always did.

 

The sound of the back door opening and Mabel’s excited chattering roused Dipper from his half-asleep television surfing and despite his disappointment from the morning, his heart leapt in his chest at the prospect of spending the rest of the day with the Author. Maybe they really had just wanted to let him sleep in, and since Ford had spent the morning with Mabel, he’d devote the evening to Dipper and the journals.

 

He was just picking up the journal and getting ready to meet up with them in the hallway when Ford walked in, Mabel on his shoulders, matching grin’s on their faces, “Finally awake, I see. You missed a wonderful sight.”

 

The tone of voice was dismissive and it hurt, but Dipper was determined to make a conversation of it, brushing his hair to the side, “Yeah, I’m sorry. I don’t sleep well, what with Bill and everything, so when I finally manage to go a night without being yanked into some terrifying dream, I tend to oversleep. I’m sorry I missed seeing the fairies, maybe we could go back some time?”

 

“Oh, I didn’t mean the fairies themselves, you can go off and find them anytime. It was Mabel who was wonderful, she’s a natural with the fey folk, they took a liking to her right away. I’ve never seen them react so well to anyone,” the cool tone Ford had used in addressing Dipper was replaced by one of fond pride, a great uncle happy for his niece’s accomplishments, and the smile on his face matched his words.

 

The clear favouritism sent a shard of ice through Dipper’s chest, his voice catching in his throat.

 

“Yeah, bro-bro! They really love me! The Queen invited me back for a party tonight, and she said Grunkle Ford can come so long as he comes with me! So we gotta get ready.”

 

Smiling, Dipper pulled a pen from behind his ear, “Do you think they’ll let me bring the journal? I would love to get to draw them up close.”

 

Mabel’s smile fell in favour of a slightly guilty expression, looking off to the side, “ _Weeell,_ they said Grunkle Ford could come…. but they didn’t say anyone else could. So…. I don’t think you can tag along, Dip. Sorry. Next time I’ll totally ask for you, though! Maybe I can take the journal and take some notes for you?”

 

Mabel’s words shocked him and Dipper took a step back, holding the journal to his chest and shaking his head, forcing a smile despite the increasing desire to cry, “I get it. They don’t know me so obviously I’m not invited. It’s fine, I’ll take my own notes someday. Don’t wanna ruin your night with dumb research or whatever. Have fun.”

 

“We probably won’t be home until really really late, bro-bro, do don’t wait up for me, okay? I’ll tell you all about it in the morning, promise! But right now I gotta go get ready, need to look my best for a fairy ball!”

 

And with that, and without so much as another glance at Dipper, Stanford hoisted Mabel higher onto his back and left the room, heading up the stairs to take her up to her room.

 

The forced smile stayed on Dipper’s face when the pair left the house and he wished them a good night, waving good bye as he closed the door, but he couldn’t keep it up for much longer than that. Sitting in his bed, he wrapped the blanket around himself so that he could barely be seen and began to cry. Angry tears, betrayed tears, lonely tears, self-loathing tears.

 

If the one person who should understand him most didn’t care, then who possibly would?

 

So lost was Dipper in his spiral of depression and despair that he didn’t even notice when his eyes slipped closed, the tears drying as he drifted off into a fitful sleep, exhausted by his emotions.

 

“Gee, Pine Tree, why the long face?  
             I haven’t even started tonight’s game yet.”

  
  



	2. The Only One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bill pays Dipper a visit and they have a meaningful chat

“Gee, Pine Tree, why the long face?  
             I haven’t even started tonight’s game yet.”

 

Brown eyes opened to a muted, gray scale version of his room, the only colour in the space found in his presence, and the triangular demon floating in front of him, cane spinning in one hand.

 

Dipper groaned, rubbing under his eyes to remove the traces of tear stains. His eyes were narrowed in anger to cover his embarrassment as he turned away from Bill, looking out the window instead.

 

“What are you even doing here, Bill? Don’t you have someone else to bother now?”

 

The only sign of expression on the demon’s face was the slight narrowing of his eye as he floated closer, right up to the side of Dipper’s bed. If he had a mouth, it would have been pursed, but as it was, his confusion was mostly present in his voice, “Whaddaya mean by that, Pine Tree? Someone else? Who else could be more fun than _you_?”

 

Scoffing, Dipper refused to turn, a sardonic laugh escaped him, “Oh, I dunno. Ford, Mabel, that rock outside probably, the actual pine trees across the clearing.”

 

“Really, now, what’s gotten into you? I mean, you’re _always_ upset when we have our little chats, but usually it’s at _me_ , and that’s how I like it. This? This is just weird.” Settling in front of Dipper on the bed, Bill crossed his legs, floating in a semblance of a seated posture, “Go on, kid. Tell ol’ Cipher your woes.”

 

Finally, Dipper turned to look at the demon with an expression of distaste and angry incredulity, eyes narrowed, “Why would I ever tell _you_ anything? You only make everything _worse_! I know better than to trust you, Bill. You’re just using me.”

 

“Well, I am a demon, Pine Tree. We’re not exactly the nicest creatures around, but from how you’re talking, it _sounds_ like I’m the only thing you’ve got right now. How sad,” A high pitched laugh escaped the demon before he composed himself, “Sorry, sorry, supposed to be supportive here.”

 

“Supportive? You don’t know what that word means. Seriously, just go back to hanging around with Ford, I know you two were close, and he’s just the better version of me. Just like Mabel. And the tree. Just stop pretending I’m ‘interesting’ or whatever, Bill.”

 

A noise akin to a whistle escaped the demon as he leant back, “Geeze, kid, I knew you had issues but I wasn’t expecting this. Seriously, you need to stop thinking like that. I told you, I like you, Pine Tree. And for all of my negative qualities, I’m not a liar. You’re fun to hang around, and if I didn’t think so, I wouldn’t be here.”

 

“I don’t understand why you think that. No one else does. Stan likes Mabel better, _Ford_ likes Mabel better. He’s supposed to _understand me_. He’s supposed to be _proud of me._ Because _no one else is_ ,” Dipper’s voice started out sad, but soon a pained anger took over, cracking his words until he spit them out like acid, each one hurting more than the last. Hearing his greatest fear and deepest wound aloud, admitting it to himself and to the one person who _really_ shouldn’t be hearing it only opened the wound further, tears threatening to fall from his eyes again.

 

Bill tossed his cane up into the air and it was swallowed up by the Mindscape, leaving him free use of both of his hands, which he folded in front of his eye, staring across the distance between himself and Dipper, “Shooting Star’s an interesting one, Pine Tree, it’s true. But she’s not you, and I like _you_. You’re more fun, you’re more curious, and you see more.”

 

The laugh that ripped itself from Dipper’s lips was not one of amusement, but rather one laced with clear self deprecation, “I can’t believe it. My own family doesn’t care about me, would rather I wasn’t here probably, and the only person who even _remotely_ likes me isn’t a person at all. Just my luck that the only attention I can get is from a _demon_ who loves _ruining my life._ ”

 

“Ehhh I can’t deny that, kid, you’re fun to mess with. But I don’t like seeing you like this, all mopey and down. You’re fun when you’re angry, cursing me for what I’ve done to you. You don’t give up, and that’s why I like you. But like this? You’re giving up and letting them toss you aside, and _that’s_ boring, Pine Tree. You should be _fighting_ for the attention they won’t give you, _showing_ them that you’re important.” The same manipulative tone Bill had once used before was back now, but this time it was forceful, cooing into Dipper’s ear. “Show them what I already know, show them how _interesting_ you are, how _powerful_ you can be.”

 

Dipper huffed, looking away again, “How could I possibly do that? Stan’s been running the gift shop even more aggressively than usual, and Ford hasn’t said more than ten words to me since coming out of the portal. He took one look at Mabel and decided she was the better sibling even though _I’m_ the one who figured out his journals, who’s _added_ to them even. But no, he doesn’t care about me, doesn’t want to see what I’ve learnt about this place.”

 

Despair turned to loathing, a heat in his voice as he spoke about Ford, ranting mostly to himself while Bill listened, eye narrowed. Dipper wasn’t looking, but if anyone had been, they surely would have seen the flash of glee in that single eye, the realisation that this could be just what Bill needed to carry out his master plans.

 

And it would be so much more fun with company, really. And this way, if everything worked out, Dipper wouldn’t need to be eliminated.

 

“That’s exactly why you need to prove them all wrong, Pine Tree. If they won’t see you for who you are and praise you for it, then you just need to show them. Show them that you’re not someone to be brushed to the side and used. Haven’t you been used enough, Pine Tree?” As he spoke, scenes flashed across him: Mabel holding Waddles excitedly while Wendy and Robby walked off arm in arm, Dipper dancing in the lamb suit to save Wendy’s friends, the pool manager firing Dipper after Mabel had stolen pool equipment to save Mermando while Dipper was on the watch.

 

Watching the scenes, Dipper looked up at Bill with a new sort of determination, “You know what? Yeah. I’m done with this. I’m done with being treated like I’m crazy, or like I’m paranoid, or like I’m not good enough! I’m done with being walked all over by everyone I care about and watching as they do nothing for me in return. I’m done with being overlooked.”

 

Laughing again, Bill offered Dipper a hand, “That’s what I like to here, there’s the Pine Tree I was looking for. So whaddaya say, Pine Tree? I’ll help you show them all what you can really do, help you prove yourself to everyone here who doesn’t see what you want them to.”

 

Just before grabbing the hand before him, Dipper paused, “What are you getting out of this, Bill? No matter how much you ‘like’ me, this can’t be free.”

 

“Oh, of course not, but you see, this is the _best_ sort of deal. Because in joining me, you’re gonna help me by default. We both win: you get to prove them all wrong, and I get this much closer to my ultimate goal, with some company along the way. And all you have to do is take my hand, Pine Tree. One little handshake, and all our problems are solved.”

  
A moment’s hesitation was all it took before Dipper grabbed hold of the demon’s hand, grim determination in his eyes, “Deal.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and here begins the true fun~~


	3. Too Little Too Late

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dipper gives his family one final test, and they fail.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And the darkness ensues~~

“Hey, I’ve gotta go down to the post office and mail some bills, can you watch the kids while I’m gone? It’ll only be a couple of hours,” there was an awkward distance between Stanley and his brother, Stanley’s hands in his pockets, posture defensive.

Stanford shrugged, leaning against the doorframe, “Yeah, I’ll look after them. They’re not even up yet, so it can’t be too hard to keep watch. I’ll hold down the fort, go pay for the electricity or whatever it is you use here.”

And Stanley nodded before heading out, no further words exchanged. It hurt, being so close to his brother but so separated from him. He hadn’t foreseen this when he’d opened the portal, and more often than not these days he was almost regretting it. He had opened it to get his brother back, but Stanford was here and he was no closer to having his brother than he’d been before.

The dark thoughts followed him out of the house and away as Mabel woke up, bounding out of bed.

Despite being out late the night before, she was up with the sun, collecting a sweater and a skirt for the day and looking over at Dipper with a small, guilty frown. He’d been sound asleep when she got home, but she still felt bad for his being left out of last night’s festivities. She knew he would have loved to meet the fairies.

But she’d asked, they promised to include him next time, and that was what mattered, right?

Either way, he was still asleep and he looked peaceful, so she didn’t bother waking him. She’d make sure to stay home until he woke up this time, though. The face he’d made yesterday when he saw he’d been left out had really hurt, and she was worried about Dipper.

Flouncing downstairs, she noticed that Grunkle Ford was settled in the armchair in the living room, some program on the TV, a bowl of cereal cupped in his hands.

“Lazy breakfast today? Sounds good to me, mind if I join you?” Mabel was already headed to the kitchen, pouring herself a bowl of the sweetest cereal they had, completing it with chocolate milk that was more syrup than milk.

Ford laughed, waving to the space around him, “Sure, kid, if you can find yourself a seat. Stan left soap operas on, so we’re gonna catch up on The Life and Times of the Richardsons or something like that. This used to play when we were kids.”

“Wow you guys are _old_ , this is in black and white. But the cool kind of old, so I guess it’s okay,” Mabel stuck out her tongue at her great uncle before settling on the floor to watch TV, yelling at the screen in between mouthfuls of cereal.

All in all, it was a good morning.

Four episodes later, Mabel and Ford were both emotionally invested in the sitcom family, crying when they got into arguments and cheering when the happy endings came for everyone at the end of each episode. Maybe it was just because the show was well written, maybe it was because the illusion of a happy ending was cathartic, but either way, it was easy to get lost in .

The door opened and closed, signaling Stan’s return and he walked into the living room, looking at the two who were on their second bowls of cereal with a look of mild confusion, “Well, at least you didn’t bring home any gnomes. Where’s Dipper, anyway?”

“He was still sleeping when I got up and came down here, he’s probably still asleep now! Ever since the portal opened he hasn’t been having his nightmares, so I think he’s catching up on sleep. Maybe Bill finally left him alone.” Mabel shrugged her shoulders, eating another bite of cereal, “I’ll go check on him after this, I need to see if Annie gets a date to the sock hop.”

Sighing, Stan waved a hand, dismissing the notion, “There’s no need for that, I’ll go get him up. It’s almost noon, he’s gonna sleep the day away at this rate.”

Making his way up the stairs, Stan whistled to himself. There might be tension between he and his brother, but at least Ford seemed to be getting along with the kids alright. He’d really taken a shine to Mabel, but then, it was hard not to, with how optimistic that girl was.

When Stan reached the door, he knocked thrice, announcing his presence, “Hey, kid, naptime’s over. You already missed breakfast, don’t wanna miss lunch too. And your sister and Ford are watching soap operas, it’ll take the both of us to convince them to turn off the TV.”

Receiving no response, he presumed as Mabel had, that Dipper was still asleep, and opened the door… Only to find both beds empty and made.

“Dipper? Are you in here?” And only silence answered him.

Leaving the room, Stan sighed, the kid was probably in the shower or something. He turned around and walked down a flight of stairs, turning into the hall and going to knock on the bathroom door, but it swung open under the pressure, not locked or even closed. The light was off. Dipper was nowhere to be seen.

Well, maybe he’d just missed him. Dipper was probably hungry, he’d probably head for the kitchen first rather than taking a shower.

All the way back down the stairs Stan went, checking in on the two in the living room, and noting that Dipper hadn’t joined them, but that still left the kitchen…. which was empty.

Walking back to the living room, Stan stood in front of the TV, “Did Dipper go out for something?”

“No, Grunkle Stan, I _told_ you, he’s _sleeping_. And I’m missing the good part, c’mon, let me see,” Mabel’s voice pitched up into a whine as she leant to the side, trying to see the TV screen, but Stan wasn’t having any of that.

He pulled the cord from the wall before walking up to Ford, “You had _one job_. I left you alone with the kids for _two hours_ and you managed to _lose_ one of them. That makes your accuracy 50%, whatever happened to the overachiever in you? Did you even go _up_ to _check on him_?”

Sensing the attack, Ford was on his feet in a second, “He was _asleep._ What was I supposed to do, sit in his room until he woke up?”

The two were beginning to argue, throwing insults back and forth while Mabel watched with concern, both for her two grunkles and her seemingly missing brother, when a sudden mechanical screeching interrupted them, all three of them floating up into the air before being unceremoniously dropped back down.

Halting in their argument, Stan and Ford looked at each other with terror in their faces, whispering two words in tandem.

“The Portal.”

Rushed footsteps took the trio down the stairs and the elevator to the deepest basement level, whose door was left ajar, bright lights visible from inside.

“How is it functional? We just closed it! Didn’t you program in some sort of cool down period or self destruct switch?”

“Why on earth would I do that? Who installs a self destruct switch on something they spent years perfecting?”

“Okay, I could understand why you wouldn’t for the test run, but after realising what it could _do_ you didn’t at least _consider it_?”

Mabel huffed, grabbing them both by their shirt sleeves and glaring at them, “Can you two argue about dumb science stuff later? There’s a portal to who-knows-where open in the basement and I _bet_ it’s my brother who opened it because I _know_ my brother and he’s way too curious for his own good.”

There was a silent agreement as they shouldered open the door, freezing just a few steps into the room.

Dipper was standing on a platform in front of the portal, which was opening much faster than it had the last time, transfixed on a point no one could see, a grin on his face.

“Dipper! Get down from there, you’re gonna get pulled in when it freaks out again! C’mon bro, we gotta get outta here!” Mabel was running toward Dipper before Stan or Ford could stop her, but she stopped in her tracks when he turned, looking down at her with a sneer.

“Took you long enough to realise I was missing, sis. You know I waited down here? I came down here over an hour ago, told myself that I’d give you until noon. If you came looking for me, I’d take everything back and stop this. But you _didn’t_ and he was _right_ ,” the portal behind Dipper was flickering and sparking, signaling its imminent opening, and Dipper’s mouth twisted into a triumphant smile, “But that doesn’t matter now. Because in the end, _I’m_ going to _win._ ”

It was Ford’s turn to come forward now, but while Mabel had ran to Dipper with fear, Ford walked to him with caution, “Dipper, I promise you, whatever Bill told you, he’s lying. He’s using you, and it’s not going to end well for you. He’s a demon, he just needs you to achieve his ends, and you’re playing right into his hands! Stop now, before it’s too late.”

“You know what that place did to Old Man McGuckett, bro-bro! You can’t just let that happen to you too!”

The scoff that came in response was dismissive as Dipper turned around again to face the portal, “It doesn’t matter if Bill’s just using me. It’s all everyone does, and this time, at least I’m getting something out of it. I get to show you all how it feels, being betrayed by someone you love!” He tipped his head over his shoulder to shake his head at Mabel, chuckling, “McGuckett fell in and couldn’t find himself, _I’m_ being invited in. I’m going to a party, Mabel, and _you’re_ not invited.”

The words had their intended effect on both parties, Ford shaking his head in defeat and Mabel falling to the floor, tears running down her cheeks, “I said I was sorry, Dipp’n’Dot! I didn’t want to not include you… I just forgot, is all… You know I get too excited.”

“I know you’re sorry, Mabel. But sometimes, sorry just isn’t enough. And I’ve accepted your apologies one too many times.”

The ground began to shake again, the portal seconds away from opening and Dipper spread his arms wide, awaiting it with bated breath.

“Oh, and Grunkle Stan? Thanks for caring, if only for a minute. It was too little too late, but I appreciate the sentiment.” And before anyone could respond, gravity was reversed again and Dipper stepped into the portal, turning to give one last smile, a laugh tumbling past his lips that was echoed by a higher pitched voice from within the other dimension before the portal closed yet again, dropping them all to the ground.

“W-what do we now?” Mabel was sniffling into her sleeve, trying to find a solution rather than thinking of the problem itself.

 **  
**Ford’s mouth was drawn into a frown as he sat down on the ground next to her, placing a hand on her shoulder, “The only thing we can do: wait.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as always, any questions can be sent over to ilananight.tumblr.com~~ and i keep a tag for this fic there as well, if you want to see occasional posts concerning it


	4. Home Sweet Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Mindscape isn't how Dipper remembers it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is so late, suddenly I gained a social life for the weekend oops.

Dipper was surrounded by the simultaneous sensations of falling and being lifted into the air, his stomach tied in knots. Distantly, he was aware that he was screaming, a knee-jerk reaction to the sensation, but the sound echoed and bounced, distorting into something foreign. Any sense of time was lost, he simultaneously felt as if he’d just been pulled through the portal and as if he’d been falling for years.

 

Rather than slowing or crashing into a surface, the blackness around him faded away along with the sense that he was in motion. In its place, a floor appeared beneath his feet, black and white marble, and furniture faded into existence, bookcases lined with leatherbound volumes, tables and decorative pillars with odd trinkets, statues, vases, and devices displayed on them, everything a smooth greyscale. When Dipper looked around, he noted that he seemed to be in some sort of entry hall, carpet running down the center from the door to a staircase in the middle of the room, doors at the top and to either side.

 

What was this place?

 

The only noise was the sound of the soles of his shoes against the marble floors as he walked over to the bookcase, inspecting the contents. Many of the books were untitled, at least on the spines, and of the ones that were, few were in English. At a glance, Dipper saw titles in German, Latin, and some sort of scripted language he was certain wasn’t used anymore, if it ever had been in the first place.

 

He was just reaching to grab one of the few books titled in English, a volume emblazoned with _A Thousand Rituals_ , when a soft, distant clacking drew his attention. In a house without sound, the noise really echoed.

 

Turning around, Dipper looked for the source of the sound, but there didn’t appear to be anyone or anything else in the room, unless one of the strangely shaped machines on some of the pillars was the source of the noise. He was just taking a couple of steps toward the nearest one in interest when the door at the top of the stairs swung open, revealing the presumed source of the clacking, if the cane in hand was any indication.

 

The man at the top of the stairs was the only other source of colour in the otherwise monochrome world, and the contrast was startling. His clothes were mostly black, a tailcoat and waistcoat over a pale yellow button down and pinstriped pants. A bowtie clasped over his throat, one black gloved hand righting it as the other rested on the crystalline head of a cane.

 

But the face was what really called to attention the lack of colour in the world around. A single bright gold eye stared out of an olive toned face, the other covered by a fringe of shocking golden blond hair, the rest of his head close shaven, just enough hair to be visible. Given who he was-presumably- looking at, Dipper guessed that there was no other eye behind the locks of hair.

 

As the man presumed to be Bill got closer, Dipper could make out more details, like the pale freckles dusted over high cheekbones and peeking out from underneath the collar of his shirt. When Bill stopped, directly in front of him, a grin opened his lips, showing bright white teeth, canines sharper and longer than any normal human’s, and Dipper could see that the freckles were not circles or dots, but very small triangles, overlapping in places.

 

In another mood, perhaps, he would have laughed at that. But as it was, he was simply dazed, awed, confused, and still a bit high on life from his earlier betrayal.

 

“Welcome to the Mindscape, Pine Tree. Whaddaya think?” The voice that spilled past thin lips confirmed Dipper’s suspicions, the man in front of him was certainly Bill.

 

“This is the Mindscape? That’s where the portal led to? Whose head are we in, then? And why do you look like _that_?” A thousand questions waited on Dipper’s tongue, but he stopped there. He knew Bill wasn’t much of one for straight answers one at a time, let alone all at once, and he really did want to know what he’d walked into- quite literally.

 

Clicking his tongue, Bill snapped raised a hand and one of the books floated off its shelf, landing in his hand. The moment it touched the demon’s glove, colour flooded into the binding and pages and Dipper watched with interest as he turned the book around, holding it out to him. The title was written in that unknown script he recognised from the shelf, “Yep, this is it, in all it’s glory. The portal allows physical objects, or people, to enter the Mindscape, which is, otherwise, entirely metaphysical. Cool, right? I designed the concept, just needed someone to get the tech working. And now look, here you are!” Arms spread wide, Bill’s hands glowed blue for a moment and the world flashed into full colour before returning to its black and white state, “And this isn’t _anyone’s_ head, so to speak. Or maybe, in actuality, it’s _everyone’s_ heads. Except yours, that is. This is the heart of the Mindscape, where I dwell when I’m not involving myself in the lives of humans,” His mouth flashed into a grin at the last question and he gestured down to himself, “What, can’t a demon have a bit of vanity in his own home? Besides, this form will be more useful to me for our purposes.”

 

Dipper’s eyes were wide at the explanation- which was oddly concise for Bill- as he looked around again, watching the colours fade back to blacks and greys, “So this is… your house? Sort of?”

 

“In a sense, yes. But in just an equal a sense, it is a prison. I’ve just decked it out in the finest I could create, to amuse my guests,” a laugh bubbled up past his lips at the irony of the statement, but there was no bitter tone to his voice, just a cool sort of humour, “And now I’ve got someone else to enjoy the place with, at least for a little while. You can keep the book, by the way. I promise, you’ll be able to read it sooner rather than later.”

 

The book was placed into his hands and Dipper looked down at it with confusion, flipping through the pages to notice that it was all written in the script, “What language is this? And how am I supposed to learn it?”

 

“A hellscript, one of many, but the most common. I’ll teach it to you in no time, it’s amazingly easy to learn anything here, because it’s information straight into your mind. I could show you all the secrets of the universe in a matter of hours, and you’d remember them all! I won’t, though, because you’re still human and your mind would break from the strain. Pity.” Bill’s face scrunched into an exaggerated expression of disappointment before he shrugged his shoulders, “No matter, though, all will work out in the end.”

 

Dipper was skeptical, but he held the book tightly nonetheless, excited by the prospect. He got the sense that there were secrets he wouldn’t learn anywhere else within that book, and probably every other one in this place. If Bill knew as much as he claimed and seemed to, the whole place would be a treasure trove of information.

 

And to think, Ford had tried to convince them all that this place would be awful. He probably didn’t want anyone else to know what he knew, the self-important man.

 

And if Dipper’s thoughts turned swifter to hatred and loathing here, he was none the wiser to it as Bill led him back up the stairs, gesturing to the doors at either side of the upper platform, “Those hallways lead to the dreams of all of Earth. I suggest not wandering down them without me, it’s easy to get lost and difficult to find your way back if you don’t have the place down. And no offense, Pine Tree, but you’re not ready to be wandering into minds. You might be at some point, but you aren’t right now, so I suggest staying in the straight and narrow path for the moment, at least.”

 

And with that he threw open the middle doors, revealing what Dipper presumed to be the rest of the house, a hallway that wrapped around from either side, and from what he could see through the glass in front of him, curved around to form a rectangle enclosing the garden, inner walls entirely glass. “All of this, provided it is unlocked, is yours to wander. Some doors will remain locked until I deem you ready for what is behind them, as this is my own innermost keep, my “sanctum santorum”, I believe humans would say.”

 

Dipper stared in awe at the sight before him. Despite the greyscale of it all, the detail was marvelous, and if Bill was telling the truth, he’d created all of this, from the plants in the garden to the patterns of wallpaper on the walls. He could have stood and taken in the details for hours, but Bill had other plans, clearly, if the cane tapping his back was any indicator. The demon placed a hand on Dipper’s shoulder, turning him to face down the left side of the hallway and patted his back.

 

“You’ll be able to take it all in, trust me. But step one should be getting you a room, since you won’t be able to access your own Mindscape room from here, and I’m not sure if you’ll still need sleep and all that jazz,” Bill’s cane was clacking against the floor again, though the noise was softer here, wood on wood rather than cold marble, and they made their way down the hallway.

 

  
“What do you mean “my own Mindscape room”?” Dipper had to run to catch up with Bill, so far ahead had he pulled. It was annoying, how much longer the demon’s stride was in this form, but Dipper did prefer it to the triangular one. He felt a little less crazy living with a demon who at least looked like a person.

 

“Y’know, your head. Every human’s got their own room down those hallways, but yours will be closed now, because you’re already here. It’s complicated, kid, but with a bit of work, you’ll get it all real quick. I have faith in you, you’re a smart one, Pine Tree.”

 

A burst of pride heated Dipper’s chest at the compliment and he couldn’t help the grin that spread across his face as he sped up to match Bill’s stride, wanting to walk beside him rather than behind him, “I can’t wait! I want to know everything you know, and I want to know how to do everything you can do and I want to be able to prove them that I’m so much better than they all thought I was!”

 

Smirking, Bill stopped before a door, raising a hand to emblazon a replica of the pine tree on Dipper’s hat into the door, the blue of the pearlescent material that filled the engraving the only colour on the door, “That’s what I like to hear, Pine Tree. You’ll make a wonderful student of mine, and when we’re all done, you’ll be stronger than they ever believed you could be. Stronger and better. And ready to carry out our plans.”

 

“Our plans… Yeah, _our_ plans,” And it didn’t matter that Dipper hadn’t a clue what those plans entailed, _he_ was an active participant, not a pawn, but a co-conspirator now. He was a _part_ of something, something big, and there was no one else to steal his opportunity or distract from what he wanted out of this. And if that wasn’t the biggest thrill and surest lock on his deal, nothing was, “So, when do we start?”

 

Bill opened the door to what would now be Dipper’s room, ushering him inside with a wide grin on his face, those sharp canines flashing again, “Patience, Pine Tree. I’m gonna give you today to rest and move yourself in, get used to the place. Tomorrow, your teachings begin. Tomorrow, we start an entirely new chapter in the world’s novel- together.”

  
The grin on Bill’s face was sinfully maniacal, and the smile Dipper flashed right back wasn’t far from the same, the only difference a grim determination and pride behind it all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter we'll take a look at how things are doing back with the dear family


	5. Helpless to Help

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No one's taking Dipper's departure well.

It took a lot to get Mabel to leave the portal room. Each time Stan or Ford got her to get up and walk to the door, she would run back, pounding on the metal and screaming for her brother at the top of her lungs. Ford had taken to standing in front of the switches, not letting her reach them. The last thing he wanted was that portal opening again.

 

“He’s not coming back, Mabel. And even if he does, it won’t be that soon. Trust me.” Ford was holding her by her sweater as she reached for the button for what had to be the twelfth time, too tired to cry, tear tracks staining her face and blotches discolouring her skin beneath the dirt and dust that streaked it from her many falls to the floor.

 

Tired as she was, Mabel still found the energy to strike out at Ford, punching him in the stomach with as much force as she could, but the older man didn’t drop her, just grunted in pain, “You don’t _know that!_ He’s _my_ brother, not _yours!_ And he’s gonna realise that he was _wrong_ and he’s gonna _come back_! I know he is. I know Dipper, he _hates_ Bill, there’s no way he’s gonna stay there… I just gotta let him out!”

 

And she was reaching for the button again, fingers inches away from it before Ford yanked her back, carrying her over his shoulder and ignoring the fists that beat against his back. When they were out of the room, he closed the door behind himself and Stan, before setting her down on the floor, crouching down to look her in the eye, his expression stern but with a deep sympathy behind it, “Kid, I know you’re upset, but you gotta trust me on this. I’ve _been_ there. Even if he does decide he wants out, which he very well might, it’s gonna take him _years_ to find his way out. That door leads to the Mindscape, and Cipher rules every inch of that place. There are no pathways home, no exit signs.”

 

Stan foresaw Mabel heading for the door again and placed himself in front of her, taking the brunt of her assault, “That means we _need_ to help him! He’s all by himself in there with _Bill!_ How can you just _leave him there?_ Don’t you care about him at all?!”

 

“We _can’t_ help him, Mabel. Opening that portal isn’t going to solve anything, by now he’s already deep in Cipher’s domain, and the demon’s gonna do everything in his power to keep him there. If you wandered in, you’d never find Dipper. Bill would throw you around like a poppet until he got bored and tossed you back out, and that would accomplish nothing. I’m sorry, kid, but there’s _nothing_ we can do from here.”

 

Ford’s explanation was enough to break the remainder of Mabel’s reserve and she broke down into tears, sobbing into Stan’s suit jacket, barely holding herself up by clinging to the fabric. Frowning, Stan picked her up, cradling her against his shoulder as they walked back up the stairs to the house. By the time they reached the landing, Mabel had cried herself into a fitful sleep, muttering apologies and pleas as she twitched.

 

“I’m gonna put her to bed, Ford, but when I get back, we need to have a talk,” there was no room for argument in Stan’s expression or tone, and his brother nodded solemnly in response before Stan walked up the stairs to the twins’ room, looking at Dipper’s empty, made bed with a sigh.

 

Who knew how long it would stay like that?

 

Pulling back Mabel’s covers, he tucked her in with a frown lingering on his face. He’d never seen her so troubled in sleep, Dipper had always been the one to experience night terrors and insomnia. Mabel slept effortlessly, a smile on her face even when she passed out in a chair in the living room.

 

But now her face was scrunched up in a mixture of fear and pain, suffering the loss of her brother even in sleep- no doubt exacerbated by the fact that Bill could show her whatever he wanted so long as she slept, and the demon would likely take pleasure in throwing her guilt back in her face. Stan only hoped she kept her resilience and blocked him out somehow, or that Bill was busy enough with whatever he had planned to leave her be. The girl would have enough to deal with during the day, torment at night was more than she deserved.

 

A flash of memory came into Stan’s mind, Dipper stumbling down the stairs with deep shadows under his eyes, clearly not sleeping well, clearly paranoid and anxious. Maybe if he’d done something sooner, none of this would have happened…

 

Guilt could come later, right now he needed to talk to Ford. His brother might be right in saying there was nothing they could do to save Dipper, but that didn’t mean they could just sit around and twiddle their thumbs in the meantime. If Dipper’s menacing words and the laughs that accompanied them were any indicator, Bill’s plans didn’t end with kidnapping, and whatever he had in mind certainly wasn’t pleasant.

 

Making his way back down the stairs, he found Ford brewing a pot of coffee in the kitchen and reached over his brother to grab an extra mug, they would both need the caffeine tonight, and for many nights to come.

 

“We can’t just do _nothing_ , you know that, right? Because this is at least partially our fault- mostly yours, but I’ll be nice this time and say _ours_ ,” Stan wasn’t going to back down on the fact that everyone shared blame for this, _everyone_ had missed the signs in Dipper’s changed mood and behaviour, “And while we can’t go in and save him, we can prepare for when he returns. Because something tells me Dipper’s not coming back all sunshine and rainbows.”

 

Ford looked ready to contest the matter of blame but decided against it, that fight could wait for another time, they had much more pressing matters to deal with now. “I’ve got some notes in my journals about that place, and about Cipher, but I’m not sure it’ll be enough for whatever that freak has planned. He… used to promise me the world, everything I ever wanted at my fingertips, if I just built that portal and opened it for him… Of course, things didn’t work out as planned, so I never got to see what he wanted with it. I just know he needed it open and was willing to trade anything, at least in theory.”

 

Coffee brewed, the two sat down at the kitchen table, all three journals laid open to the pages concerning the triangular demon in question. If they had one consolation, it was that Dipper didn’t have any of the journals with him when he stepped into that portal, or they might have never gotten it back. History had already proven that Bill Cipher wanted any and all information about himself destroyed, no matter how vague.

 

At an hour too early to be morning but too late to be night, Stan began to laugh sardonically, shaking his head with incredulous despair.

 

“What on _earth_ are you laughing about, Stanley? This isn’t a joke! Cipher could very well be plotting the apocalypse behind that portal and you think it’s _funny?”_

 

The laughter cut off as Stan glared at his brother, disdainful at the clear condescension, “Obviously not, Stanford. But I’ve just realised that I will need to think of a _very_ good lie by morning, as Mabel and Dipper are supposed to be going home in a matter of days for school, and now I need a reason for them to stay, because I can’t just tell their parents that one of their children _fell into another dimension and is potentially working with a demon.”_

 

And there was that laughter again, bordering on hysterics this time as he buried his head in hands, “They’re the last family I have, and I let one of them get _kidnapped_ by a _demon_. What kind of uncle am I? Not a great one, that’s for sure.”

 

With a sigh, Ford closed the journals and stacked them on the table out of the way before reaching out and patting his brother’s shoulder, “Don’t tell me you’re giving up on me this early. You never duck out in the first round, what happened to the brother who was first to come out swinging? You’re gonna let a demon who can’t even exist in this world get the best of you? That’s not the Stan I remember,” Ford flashed a smile that was only a twitching of lips, the rest of his expression remaining melancholy, “Besides, if I remember correctly, lying was always your strong suit. Just take a bit of truth and build it up into something new- that’s always worked for you in the past, hasn’t it?”

 

Pulling away from the touch, Stan ran a hand through his hair before nodding, mouth set into a thin line, “You’re right. I’ve gotten through worse patches than this. All I need is a believable excuse to keep the twins here for the school year….” Stan thought for a moment, before noticing the picture of Mabel, Candy, and Grenda on the mantlepiece, “I’ve got it.”

 

This late at night, no one answered the phone at the Pines’ family home down in Piedmont, but that was just what Stan wanted. He waited for the tone to sound, recording a message, “Hey. You know how you said to call and tell you how the kids are doing? Well, I've been watching them and with all the friends they’ve made here, I was thinking I should just register them for school here and keep them. It would be awful to make them leave such close friends behind when they've just gotten to know them.  I checked with both of them, they’re dying to go to school here, so it’s all up to you two. And I warn you, Mabel’s making that face of hers. Give me a call tomorrow if you’ve got any problem with it.”

 

When Stan hung up, Ford was staring at him with a raised eyebrow, “You expect that to work? Won’t they want to see their children?”

 

“They haven’t come up to see them all summer, so I’m not really worried. And it _has_ to work. I can’t tell them the _truth_ , can I?”

 

“...No… but for everyone’s sakes, I hope Dipper gets out of that portal sooner rather than later,” and the older twins sighed in tandem, looking back to the snack machine that led downstairs.

  
“So do I, Ford. So do I.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We'll be back to Dipper and Bill next chapter, just wanted to give you a peek at the Pines Family~


	6. Machinations and Manipulations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A lesson in Mindscape physics, and a plan for the future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait, I had a fanworks exchange to arrange~. I now return to your regularly scheduled dark dipper

The runes on the page leapt out at him, there were only a few he didn’t know now. Bill had been quick to give him a rundown of how the hellscripts worked, how every symbol was twice or thrice coded and had to be double translated to get back to English or any other human tongue. And it had been slow at first, but the demon hadn’t been lying when he said lessons were swift in the Mindscape- the runes that had been mere squiggles at the start of the lesson were words and sounds and phrases by the end.

 

And now he could read entire passages without needing to turn to the reference book Bill had left him for a translation. Dipper was working his way through the book Bill had handed him at the beginning of his stay here, seated out in the garden amidst Bill’s collection of unusual plants- half of which Dipper was certain did not exist on Earth, if they existed anywhere at all.

 

Dipper was never really sure what time it was in Bill’s Mindscape mansion. When he walked past the gardens, they seemed bathed in twilight, neither day nor night, but upon going outside, he was suddenly bathed in the bright light of day- though there was no warmth to accompany it. There was no sensation of any sort in the Mindscape.

 

Everything simultaneously existed and didn’t, objects occupied space but could be tossed out of that space in an instant. Everything was only as light or heavy as Dipper thought it was, only as soft or hard or warm or cold as Dipper perceived it to be. Without those perceptions, the Mindscape was as sensationless as a picture of a world long gone.

 

Among his first lessons had been the machinations- and manipulations- of the Mindscape. Bill had taken him to an empty room, and the demon had seated himself in midair, floating crosslegged in his human shape.

 

“Quite a comfortable chair, this is,” the demon’s voice had been dripping with amusement as Dipper circled him, muttering under his breath.

 

“That’s not a _chair_ , you’re _floating_. You’re using _magic_ , Bill, levitating or something. There’s not a chair there,” and to prove his point, Dipper waved a hand through the space under Bill, who let out a high pitched giggle.

 

Leaning back, his back stopped at an unnatural angle, an angle that should have resulted in him toppling, “Isn’t there? I’m nearly certain there’s a chair here, Pine Tree. You just aren’t thinking hard enough about it.”

 

Dipper rolled his eyes, crossing his arms and huffing. He made another circle around Bill, looking closely for any signs of the chair before shaking his head, waving his arms through the air, “There’s _definitely not a chair!_ You’re _floating!”_

 

A frown touched the demon’s face as he leant forward, one hand reaching back to grab onto an invisible surface and hold himself up as he looked Dipper in the eyes, “You gotta stop that, Pine Tree. If you go at it thinking there isn’t one, there never will be. You have to believe that it’s there, acknowledge it’s there. And then it will be. Just try it. I’m sitting on a chair.”

 

The brunet looked skeptical but he shrugged, throwing his hands up, “Fine. Whatever. You're sitting on a chair. It’s black and it’s got a high back and it’s really fancy, like those old chairs they use in fantasy movies. It’s got arms but you’re not using it right, you’re sitting cross-legged. Must be uncomfortable.” The words were spat out with distaste, but when Dipper looked back, the very chair he described was now before him, Bill seated crosslegged within its confines.

 

“All correct. Good job, Pine Tree.” And with that, Bill leapt off the chair, landing lightly on his feet and pulling his cane out of thin air, “You gotta fix that natural doubt of yours, kid, or this is gonna be real hard for you. This is the Mindscape, physics are at _your_ disposal. That chair, this cane, this whole house exist because I have created them, and I could wipe them all from existence in an instant by thinking they no longer existed.”

 

Dipper turned the idea over in his head, it made sense enough- since this whole place was, apparently- Bill’s imagination, it could be reimagined in the eye of the beholder. “That’s why you’re in colour, isn’t it? Because you’re not something I could think away, you’re not a part of the scenery.”

 

“Ding ding ding, and I didn’t even have to prompt you! You deserve a prize, Pine Tree? Would you like a beating human heart?” And for a moment Bill held one out, a grin on his face, before spiriting it back off into oblivion.

 

“Can’t stitch it into anyone’s chest and make them care about me, so no thanks. I’ll just take some more lessons, if that’s a feasible reward.”

 

Clicking his tongue, Bill reached out and patted Dipper’s shoulder with a sort of humoured compassion, “There, there, Pine Tree. You’ll always be _my_ favourite meatsack! And what do _they_ matter anymore? Soon enough they’ll be _grovelling_ at your feet? And won’t that be fun?” Bill’s mouth split his face in a grin wide enough to show the sharpened canines as he moved his hand from Dipper’s shoulder to his cheek, “I’m going to teach you everything you need to know, and then we’ll go back to them and show them the fault of their ways.”

 

And the frown that had begun to form on Dipper’s face shifted into a smirk, as he nodded. Bill’s words were a comfort and a thrill, he couldn’t wait to be ready to go back and prove himself to be the strongest of them all, the most important.

 

“Now, how about you try. Make anything you want, anything at all. There are no limits here, after all!” Bill stepped back a bit, leaning on his cane and crossing one leg over the other as he watched the boy think.

 

Biting his lip, Dipper raised a hand to his chin, deep in thought. Anything in the world, at his fingertips with only a thought… With a triumphant and playful smile, Dipper turned on a heel to face Bill, summoning a NYARF gun in the process and pointing it at the demon. When his fingers closed around the very solid plastic in his hand, giving it colour, the smile widened into a grin.

 

Playing along, Bill put his hands up in mock surrender before stepping forward and clapping, stopping a few feet from Dipper, “That’s it, easy as pie, right Pine Tree? Nothing to it, the world at your command.” With a wave of his hand, Bill summoned a spinning model of the earth, a globe complete with cloud cover and lights flickering on and off as cities woke and slept, “And if we play our cards right, _this_ world will soon follow.”

 

Dipper took a step closer, looking at the spinning globe for a moment before looking up at Bill expectantly, “What do you mean by that? How will what we’re doing now translate? Earth physics is nothing like Mindscape physics.”

 

“That’s what you think, Pine Tree, but the very portal that brought you here disproves that. All you need is a link, a _rift_ between the worlds, if you will, and bits of one can easily corrupt the other. And once we return, and I am finally free to roam Earth in a corporeal state, it will be simple to bend the natural magic of that world to the rules of mine.” For a moment, Bill’s eyes lost focus as he stared greedily into the future, nearly licking his lips at the prospect of finally having the earth to warp and rule has his own, a host for his Nightmare Realm, “And when we’re done with our lessons, you’ll know how to use your _own_ magic, which will be right at home back on Earth. And no one will be able to stop either of us.”

 

Dipper’s grin mirrored Bill’s in its glee and pre-emptive triumph as he looked down at the globe again, reaching over to grab it and force it to backwards, a total reversal of the world, and while he knew it had no real affect on Earth from here, he imagined the collective horror as time itself reversed, seasons shifting at a moment’s notice, night turning to day and day to night. The image was amusing and empowering, to say the least.

 

“I can’t wait.”

 

With a flourish, Bill stepped behind Dipper, placing a hand on his shoulder again and turning him to face the wall, “You won’t have to wait long, Pine Tree, I promise. And the waiting will be fun, we’ve still got _lots_ to cover. By the time you’re done learning, you won’t even notice the time has passed.” With a snap of his fingers, a carbon copy of the portrait of Stan hanging in the kitchen of the Mystery Shack appeared on the wall, and Bill’s hand wandered down to pull Dipper’s up, the NYARF gun still held in his grasp, “We can start practicing now.”

 

And Bill’s long fingers coaxed Dipper’s to the trigger, olive skin over peach as they pulled as one, the dart sticking perfectly between Stan’s eyes, a blue fire catching where it landed and spreading until the whole image was consumed.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My other fic is getting two updates in a row after this so a new chapter will be up Saturday at the earliest~


	7. Danger and Delight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The lessons continue, and Dipper comes to quite the realisation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really sorry about how long this took, personal life kicked my ass but I'll be back on a regular schedule

The only true indicator of time in the Mindscape was Dipper’s own growth and changing features. He ate and slept, and that gave him an idea of days, but he was never entirely sure of the time of day or time of year, as Bill’s marble palace didn’t experience seasons or weather unless Bill created them on a whim or through a burst of emotion.

 

A particularly angry day- Bill had never explained what upset him- had resulted in a thunderstorm that shook the house and lightning that left the rocks in the garden charred until Dipper set about fixing them.

 

From what Dipper could see, Bill didn’t have to sleep himself, though he did join the brunet for meals and picked at the food. Dipper still wasn’t sure if the food was simply thought up or if Bill had lesser demon servants somewhere cooking meals and cleaning the place. It was likely the first, as Dipper was certain he’d have seen any other demons by now, with as much free reign as he was granted.

 

There were only a few rooms in Bill’s spacious mansion that weren’t open to him now, and even those were promised to be opened in time.

 

Rising from his bed, Dipper brushed his hair out of his face and ran a hand through it. It was getting a bit unruly, he’d have to set a pair of scissors to it soon enough, or ask Bill to help him. Though he wasn’t sure he was up for whatever style the demon would pick for him… perhaps it was best to just do it himself. Either way, he had a couple more weeks before it really started to bother him.

 

His stubble, though, was something that needed to go. Standing in front of the bathroom mirror, Dipper waved a hand to summon a straight razor and shaving cream, lathering his face before running the blade over it.

 

The first time his peach fuzz had morphed into something more resembling an unkempt mess of a beard a few months ago, Bill had sat him down and handed him one of the blades, explaining the technique and magicking a five o’clock shadow of his own to demonstrate.

 

“You’ve gotta be careful with a blade like this, Pine Tree. One wrong move, one wrong angle, and you could slit your throat. And while I’m certain you’d look _lovely_ with a ribbon of red around your neck, you’re much prettier and much more useful alive.” The smirk that ghosted over Bill’s lips was dangerous, but Dipper knew by now that he had nothing to fear from it, save the chills that ghosted down his spine.

 

It didn’t help that Bill seemed incapable of shaving without leaving his mouth open at an angle that really wasn’t decent, neck exposed as the blade ran over the skin. The slim fingers didn’t falter, didn’t shake as they held the silver blade, scraping and sliding it across the surface with smooth motions, clearing away the shaving cream and the stubble away without incident.

 

Dipper was pretty sure shaving wasn’t supposed to be attractive. He was also entirely sure that rule didn’t apply to Bill Cipher.

 

“Would you like to try for yourself, or would you like a hand for your first time around? First times are hard, you know. It’s always nice to have someone lead the way.” The smirk still lingering on Bill’s lips had a dark edge to it now as he cleaned the blade of the straight razor, holding it out in question.

 

And damn if those questions didn’t have about a dozen other meanings that Dipper definitely shouldn’t be considering, because Bill was a demon and he was supposed to be teaching him how to get back at everyone who hurt him, not inspiring fantasies. Dipper should have waved Bill of there, said he understood and could do it himself, but he couldn’t resist the temptation.

 

“Can you start it off? Just for a bit of an example.”

 

“Of course, Pine Tree. It’s no trouble,” and before Dipper even had a moment to thank him, Bill was brushing shaving cream onto his face, the bristles of the brush ticklish against his skin as the demon applied it. “Wouldn’t want you slicing up that lovely face of yours. Earth’s new leading duo needs to look the part, after all.”

 

If Dipper had been mesmerised by the visual of the blade against Bill’s neck, it was nothing compared to the electric shock when the cold silver pressed against his skin, sliding up his neck and under his chin before pulling away with a ‘schick’. Bill’s words echoed in his head, one wrong move and the demon could kill him right there.

 

But the blade came away clean, no blood staining the blade or the soap red, and Dipper didn’t feel the telltale sting of cut skin, just the cool shock of the removal of hair.

 

Certain his face was beat red under the shaving cream, Dipper had reached out, taking the razor and laughing nervously, “I-I think I’ve got it now. Thanks, Bill. I appreciate the lesson. I’ll meet you in the library when I’m done, we’re doing some lessons today, right?”

 

“It was no trouble. You’ll look good clean shaven, and this is the best way to do it, after all. Modern razors are so unreliable. Tsk tsk.” And with a bat to Dipper’s shaved cheek, Bill was out of the room, leaving a very conflicted Dipper behind him.

 

Being attracted to Bill definitely wasn’t a part of the plan. Definitely not.  
                   But _fuck_ if that wasn’t the most sensual thing he’d ever done in his life.

 

Shaking himself out of the memory, Dipper went back to shaving. Even now, the recollection brought a flush to the tips of his ears. And he was almost certain Bill knew how he felt, with how the demon had flashed more of those dark, mischievous smirks in the time since, lingering beside his ear to whisper tips and tricks rather than keeping his distance.

 

More than once, Dipper had woken in a sweat with the image of Bill above him, a knife in his hand and a grin on his face.

 

There was a time when that vision would have filled him with dread. Now his stomach was in knots for a very different reason.

 

With a sigh, Dipper brushed his hair back out of his face, his birthmark showing between the locks of his fringe. He’d started revealing it more and more often now, no longer ashamed of it. The points of the constellation lit up when he worked, and Bill often complimented him on the visible signs of the magic in his soul.

 

Turning away from the mirror, Dipper walked to the armoire, pulling out a shirt and a pair of pants for the day and changing swiftly out of his nightclothes, buttoning up the shirt with swift precision. They wouldn’t be going outside today for lessons, so he could forego the coat without fear of Bill and the weather playing tricks on him.

 

A wave of his hand had the door opening for him and closing behind him as he walked out into the hallway, leather soles tapping against the marble floor. Bill had told him to meet him in the entry room today, something about ‘expanding his horizons’.

 

The journey down the hall wasn’t too long, but Dipper had a sense that he was early despite knowing the time and thus he made the walk leisurely, stopping to look into the garden and notice that Bill had changed all of the plants to reflect a time more like fall than summer. Was it fall back on Earth? Or was Bill just in a mood?

 

Shrugging his shoulders, Dipper turned away from the garden, opening the doors to the hall between Bill’s mansion and the Labyrinth of Dreams.

 

The change in atmosphere was obvious, shadows more prevalent here than lighter greys and whites. This room also lacked much of Bills flair for design, simplistic in comparison to the lavish rooms of the palace. And, in contrast to the silence of the mansion… was that a violin?

 

Following the sound, Dipper stumbled across Bill standing in a circle of light, eyes closed as his fingers flashed across the strings, bow smoothly pulling over them and coaxing a haunting sound out of the instrument. It wasn’t a song Dipper had ever heard, but he was captivated nonetheless, stunned into silence.

 

When the song finished, the last note hung in the air and Dipper did not want to break the spell that the instrument had woven, but Bill’s golden eye cracked open, catching sight of him, and with a wave of his hand the violin and bow were spirited out of sight, “What, no applause? Tough crowd.”

 

The comment broke the energy in the room and Dipper laughed, shrugging, “I didn’t know you played.”

 

“I’m a man of many talents, Pine Tree. But we’re not here to talk about me today. Today, we’re going to have some _fun.”_ Bill gestured for Dipper to follow as he walked up to the door to the Labyrinth. Only when he touched his cane to it did the knob appear, summoned forth by the master of the realm. “Today, we’re going to make use of the Mindscape’s most powerful tool- the human mind itself.”

 

Rather than opening like a usual door, when Bill touched the knob the door melted back from itself, forming the pathway to so many doors Dipper couldn’t possibly count them. Staring with wonder, Dipper watched the Labyrinth unfold from where they stood, an entire new realm appearing before his eyes, summoned by Bill’s presence alone.

 

To say he was amazed would be an understatement.

 

“Now, I know how you’re _itching_ to play with your dear families, but I want them to really feel the shock of your change when we return, so we’ll have to leave them be for tonight. Worry you not, though, I’ve been keeping tabs on them. You’ll be pleased at the state you find them in, I’m sure.” Bill’s grin flashed sharp teeth and he stepped into the Labyrinth, lighting the area around them with a ball of blue fire that floated beside his head.

 

Dipper fell into step beside him with a look of disappointment, he’d hoped to scare some remorse into his family, or at least see how they were doing. But he trusted that Bill was keeping tabs as he said he was, and that would have to be enough for now. He couldn’t possibly find their dreamscapes from here, the Labyrinth was too vast, “Are we just choosing at random, then?”

 

“In a way, yes. _You’re_ choosing at random. I’ll know where we’re going no matter what door you stop at. Just pick whichever one calls to you, Pine Tree!” Bill’s voice was chipper, a spring in his step. It was clear he’d been looking forward to this just as much as Dipper had. It was one of the final stages of Dipper’s training, after all.

 

There was some sense of a test in that, a test of just who Dipper would pick, which door would call to him, and thus the brunet began to look around, examining each door they passed. All of them were different, but none stood out particularly, until they reached a door that was off white and patterned with leaves.

 

“This one. I want to go here.”

 

Leaning down to whisper in his ear, Bill grinned, lips mere centimetres from Dipper’s skin, “Then open it.”

 

A shiver passed over his spine as he reached out, expecting the door to resist his touch or shock him, to react in some way to someone other than the demon of dreams, but the knob gave way just like any other door and the door opened. Rather than waiting for the pair to step in, the dreamscape swallowed them up, dropping them both into the grey scale dreams of a person Dipper had never met.

 

“Everything here works just like the palace, Pine Tree. You can make, or break, whatever you please, and they won’t be able to stop you. _You_ hold the power here, you can make them do anything if you work at it.” As an example, Bill snapped his fingers, causing a flash of lightning to strike the tree the young woman was sitting under, shocking her out of her book and causing her to run, screaming.

 

A laugh escaped Bill at her antics as he repeatedly felled trees in her path, barring her routes of escape as fire caught from tree to tree, “Go ahead, Pine Tree, give it a try. It’s fun! And it’s good practice for later.”

 

Dipper felt a momentary pang of guilt and concern for the girl, but the grin on Bill’s face was too bright to ignore, and the demon was right. He needed to practice for when this would really pay off for him. Biting his lip, he twisted his hand, catching her feet up from under her and tripping her as the flames licked at her feet. A scream came in response and before he even noticed it, his laugh was joining Bill’s, a counter melody to the demon’s high pitched cackle.

 

“Take a look into her head, Pine Tree. Feel how frightened she is, and drown in the sensation that it’s you causing that.” Bill’s voice had dropped into something of a purr and it was clear he was taking his own suggestion, basking in the array of human emotions.

 

Hand outstretched, Dipper let his thoughts wander out like tendrils to search out hers. Bill’s mind was closer and thus easier to touch, but it was solely focused on the woman before them, providing an easy pathway into her head. The images there had yet another laugh spilling from his lips: a man who was clearly her lover, a young boy, her son or brother, Dipper couldn’t tell from the jumbled quality to her thoughts, everyone she wouldn’t be able to say goodbye to.

 

Inspired by the images, he snapped his fingers in a mimic of Bill’s earlier motion, her lover appearing in colour before her.

 

“Jace! Help me! Get me out of here!” She tried to reach out to him, but her lover merely smirked from outside the circle of fire, throwing a lighter into the middle, an admission of guilt and a final goodbye before he turned to walk away, “Jace! No! Come back! Where are you going? _Jace!”_

 

Those were her last words before the flames consumed her, a look of hurt and betrayal mashing with the terror in her face.

 

It seemed the events of the dream were enough to jolt the woman awake, as Dipper suddenly found himself back in the hallway of the Labyrinth, the door to her room charred and missing it’s knob.

 

“Well _that_ was more exciting than I thought it would be, and I had pretty high expectations as it was.” Bill’s voice was heady and breathy with laughter as he draped an arm around Dipper’s shoulders, “You’re a real natural at weaving nightmares, kid. It’s _beautiful_ to watch.” And in a transition so swift it shouldn’t have been possible, his voice was a purr in Dipper’s ear, inspiring another shiver down the brunet’s spine, the sensation mixing with the giddy feeling that came whenever Bill sang his praises, “You deserve a reward for impressing me so.. Tell me, Pine Tree, what do you desire most?”

 

Pressed on by the confidence and heat and energy of the moment, Dipper turned to look Bill in the eye, faces only inches apart, “You.”

 

Bill’s eye glowing golden was the last thing Dipper saw before the demon closed the space between them, claiming his lips in a war of tongues and teeth. A hand wound itself into dark hair and all Dipper knew was that Bill was in front of him and on him and around him, the scent of sulfur flooding his nose and the metallic tang of blood in his mouth.

  
He’d never felt more alive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> /cackling from Lani


	8. Souls and Bodies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dipper's birthday comes with more than a few perks this time around.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HELLO YES THIS CHAPTER INVOLVES A LOT OF SMUT THIS IS YOUR WARNING IF YOU'RE NOT HERE FOR THAT.

The adrenalin fueled kiss was all it took to change the dynamic of the lessons Bill gave to Dipper. The demon had always been quick to praise, purring encouragements in Dipper’s ears, but now there was a promise beneath them, lips pressing to the cartilage of his ear or the hollow behind it after speaking. More than ever now Dipper strived to impress the demon, anything for more of that lascivious praise whispered like spiced honey into his ears.

 

If he’d thought his dreams were vivid before, now they were pure indulgence, the demon splayed over him, holding him down with one hand and clawing at him with the other while he cooed in a mixture of English and the hellspeak Dipper now understood nearly perfectly. The demon’s native tongue was a natural aphrodisiac, even when Bill muttered angrily to himself under his breath, a shiver made its way down Dipper’s spine.

 

Boy did he have it bad.

 

On more than one occasion, Dipper had awoken in a hot sweat, visions and scraps of audio from his dreams replaying as he reached beneath the covers, biting his lip to prevent any noise from escaping his lips. Bill’s sharp toothed smile and golden eye always the image behind his eyelids before everything went white and he was left panting and arched on the mattress.

 

He did his best to hide his nightly transgressions from the demon whose house he shared, but the knowing light in Bill’s eye come breakfast told Dipper he was far from successful. How could he hide his heated dreams from the demon of dreams himself?

 

The frequent occurrence of those dreams changed Dipper’s habits, the late night showers before bed replaced with morning showers to wash away the physical evidence of his sin, water splashed in his face to replace the lustful flush, lights turned on as bright as possible to counteract the dilation of his pupils. And Bill was swift to comment on the change, a smirk on his face.

 

“Taken to morning showers, have we,  Pine Tree? Do they help you wake up, hmm?”

 

Coughing to cover up the surprise he felt, Dipper flushed before shrugging in an attempt to be nonchalant, “Y-yeah, something like that. Gets me ready for the day.”

 

“Fair enough. You certainly smell nicer like this, I must say.” At one point, Dipper might have just taken that as a compliment, but the tongue that peeked out to lick at Bill’s lips implied a deeper meaning, and a flash of heat sparked low in his belly.

 

Life with a demon was far from easy, harder still when you stumbled into lust with him.

 

Time had long since ceased to matter to Dipper in the Mindscape, each day was simply a step closer to the day he and Bill would make their return to Earth and wreak havoc, the day he would finally reap his revenge, and from how long their training sessions had gotten and how good his control was getting, Dipper was guessing that day was close. But he had no idea of the actual date or time back on Earth, as removed as he was.

 

So he was surprised when he walked out to breakfast to find a veritable feast laid out on the table, as well as a pile of carefully wrapped presents. Rather than seated in his usual chair at the head of the table, Bill was standing behind it, one hand held out in a gesture of welcome.

 

“Good morning, Pine Tree. Come, come, sit. A man should be at the head of the table for his coming of age celebration,” there was an equal amount of amusement and pride in Bill’s grin as he pulled out the chair, bowing theatrically at the waist, “And you should eat before opening your presents.”

 

Despite the obvious conclusion he came to, Dipper was still confused as he walked over to Bill, brow furrowed in thought, “Coming of age…? Is it really…?”

 

“Yep! Happy Birthday, Pine Tree! By the laws of your silly homeworld you’re now officially an adult and all your decisions are your own! No family member can lay claim to you and you can do all manner of things that were illegal for you yesterday! Isn’t that exciting!” Bill’s laugh tumbled from thin lips at the absurdity of human customs, though he had thrown himself into the celebration for this one, “Now c’mon, eat! I want you to open your gifts and then I have news for you to go with today’s lesson.”

 

The excitement in Bill’s voice was contagious as Dipper sat down in the chair he was so used to seeing Bill in, the demon seating himself at Dipper’s right in the opposite of their usual seating positions. Some things never changed, though, as Bill poked and played with his food, only taking the occasional bite while Dipper made swift work of his plate, likely eating more than his fill with how good the food tasted. Dipper still wasn’t entirely sure how Bill managed to summon up such wonderful fare, but he certainly wasn’t going to complain about it

 

Meal finished, Bill snapped his fingers to clear the table, an instant sort of clean that was just one of the many perks of the Mindscape’s malleable physics. As if summoned by the meal’s absence, the gifts floated over to Dipper, arranging themselves in neat little rows.

 

“You can open them in any order you wish, I just figured you deserved more than one present for such a momentous day,” Bill rested his head on interlaced hands, clearly anxious for Dipper to set himself to gift opening. Dipper wasn’t sure he’d ever seen the demon quite so excited outside of particularly fun lessons.

 

Picking up the longest, thinnest package, Dipper carefully pulled the paper off to reveal a crystal box, apparently with no hinges or seams, and he chucked at the implication, touching the crystal and watching it melt away at his command. Even in gifts, it seemed, Bill wanted to make sure he got his practice in. With the crystal out of the way, the thin knife fell into his hands, and Dipper could feel the energy thrumming from within it, “Are we playing a guessing game or does this come with instructions?”

 

Bill’s cackle burst out for a moment as he reached over to touch the edge of the blade, pressing hard enough to break the skin and draw blood, “This dagger is what you will need to harvest your end of the deal, a blood sacrifice and a soul for me to consume and use to create a corporeal form on earth. Once you’ve finished that, it is yours to keep so that you may harvest souls of your own and reap the benefits.”

 

Suddenly more awed by the weapon, Dipper brought it close to his face before running his own fingers over the edge, blood rushing to the surface as the sharp blade cut skin like butter, “I can harvest them?”

 

“Of course, Pine Tree! I’ll teach you, don’t you worry.”

 

A good many of the other gifts were items of clothing or accessories, though they all held significance. A pendant that would allow Dipper to access the Mindscape from earth at any time, not only in sleep, a coat that would befuddle anyone as to its wearer’s identity, and a ring that juxtaposed the one Bill wore on his own finger, Dipper’s gold with a black jewel while Bill’s was a deep black metal with a topaz set into it.

 

“A mark of our contract so that all may see it. Some of my kind are not so keen on picking up on.. social cues, and need some pressure. And I don’t want anyone making moves on what is _mine.”_ And with that sentence, Dipper was made aware of just how possessive the ring was, aware of the fact that it was Bill staking a claim, and his breath caught in his throat as he slipped it onto his finger.

 

If the purr that issued forth from Bill’s throat was indicative of anything, the demon was quite pleased with the sight.

 

The last gift was the flattest, another wrapped crystal box, but within this one was an odd, triangular mirror. Emblazoned on the back was Bill’s trademark eye, always open and watching, and Dipper looked over at Bill for an explanation.

 

“I’m _always_ watching, and this is one way you can watch too. This will allow you to look through any image of myself on Earth, whether you exist in the Mindscape or in your own plane. That mirror is a window to a great many places, and it is our lesson for today,” Bill’s mouth curled up into the smirk that Dipper now knew meant dark mischief,  “We’re gonna get a look at your dear, darling family today, in preparation for our return.”

 

For a moment, the demon’s eye went out of focus and was consumed by black abyss, which Dipper now knew made it match the other eye underneath Bill’s fringe of hair. Returning to the present, Bill pressed the mirror into Dipper’s hands, “They’re in the dining room, I want you to think of the window that’s there, the one I can see though, and project yourself through it.”

 

With an expression of determination and excitement, Dipper closed his eyes and pictured the scene before looking back at the mirror, eyes glowing an icy blue for a moment before the scene appeared, a dull chorus of voices becoming audible.

 

“Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you. Happy birthday dear-”

 

“Dipper.”

 

Mabel’s shoulders were hunched behind the cake, brightly coloured candles lit in front of her, and an empty chair beside her. Stan and Ford were seated opposite, both looking at each other for a moment before looking back to Mabel.

 

“You gotta stop doing that, Mabel. It’s not gonna make him come back any faster, and you should at least be allowed to be happy on your 18th birthday.”

 

Anger flared up in Mabel’s eyes and she stood up, pointing at her great uncles, “You don’t know that! He could come back at any moment! And it’s his  birthday too, he deserves to be sung to!”

 

Having seen enough, Dipper made a noise of disgust before closing his eyes again, the mirror fading back to a simple reflective surface.

 

“Hindsight is 20/20, isn’t it, sister dearest? Well, you’ll pay for not having that sort of concern when I was _there._ ”

 

Suddenly, there was a weight on his shoulder, Bill’s chin resting there so that he could whisper into Dipper’s neck, humming, “Mmm, _about that._ Your last gift is a good piece of news. This lesson was your last, I’ve been impressed by your improvement, and I believe you’re ready. Tonight is our last night here in the palace of a prison. Tomorrow, the end begins.”

 

Bill’s voice dripped promise and anticipation, and the feeling was contagious, Dipper’s breath caught in his chest. The same sensation that had accompanied the woman’s screams in his first trip to the dreamscape and every subsequent trip flooded him now, his pulse ringing in his ears as a grin of triumph spread across his face.

 

“We’re going back to Earth?”

 

“Indeed we are, Pine Tree. At first light tomorrow… but, there’s _one_ thing we have to do first…”

 

Turning to face Bill, there was a desperation in Dipper’s eyes and a devotion in his voice as he answered, “Anything. I’m ready to go back, I’ll do whatever it takes.”

 

Bill grinned, clearly pleased with the answer as he hummed, _“That’s_ what I like to hear, Pine Tree. I have to bind my spirit to your soul so that when you return to Earth, I can be carried over with you.”

 

Nodding, Dipper tilted his head for a moment, “You won’t be possessing me again, will you? Because I’d rather like to be the one exacting my revenge, it’d be more fun than watching you do it.”

 

“No, no, not at all. We’ll be getting me a body soon enough, I just need safe passage into your world to start. And there are a _few_ ways to do it, but I think _one_ of them is something you’ll _really_ enjoy… It might even be something you’ve _dreamt_ of,” Bill’s voice dropped into the liquid lust coo he used when he was particularly pleased with Dipper, and a shudder wracked the brunet’s spine, an instinctual heat flaring up in his belly.

 

“Y-you mean… A… physical connection?” He couldn’t bring himself to say the words, certain his voice would crack and betray just how badly he wanted that to be the case, but the sweat pooling at his temples was a clear enough indicator, and Bill chuckled against his neck, breath washing over the skin before he pressed a kiss to it.

 

When Bill spoke again, he dropped English in favour of his native tongue, and the switch alone was enough to have Dipper nearly panting, mouth dry and pupils dilated, _“Something_ along those lines, yes. I’d use a bit more choice words, though… To bind my spirit to yours, I’m going to take you and bed you and fuck you until you only remember my name and our minds become one.”

 

 ** _“Fuck,_** yes,” the plea escaped Dipper’s lips before he even could think to stop it, a flush colouring his cheeks both from the arousal and from his embarrassment at how close he was to begging Bill to do just that.

 

Dipper could feel Bill’s mouth twist into a smirk against his skin and another chuckle escaped him, “So _eager,_ so willing to please, I do so love that. You’re a _very_ good partner, Pine Tree. Absolutely _wonderful.”_

 

And the shiver that accompanied the praise diverted Dipper’s attention from the fact that the dining hall had melted away and the two of them were now in a room unfamiliar to Dipper. Falling backwards, his back met the silk of black sheets and the padding of a plush mattress, eyes catching sight of the gold and black theme of the room for just a moment before they slipped closed as Bill’s mouth began assaulting his own.

 

With so few rooms Dipper hadn’t seen, he could only presume this was the demon’s own bedroom, and another flash of heat ran through him at the intimacy of that thought.

 

One of Bill’s hands had wound itself into Dipper’s hair, tugging at the thick brown locks which were just long enough to pull and expose the brunet’s neck. Apparently finished with his plundering of Dipper’s mouth, Bill kissed and bit his way down that pale neck, stopping at the juncture of neck and shoulder and worrying at the skin, biting just hard enough to leave a mark without drawing blood- that would come later.

 

But just that little spark of pain was enough to cause Dipper to let out a keening sound, somewhere between a plea and a moan, reaching up to grasp at Bill’s neck, left without hair to thread his fingers through. The reaction prompted a low laugh from Bill who responded by kissing the reddened mark and purring, clearly intent on maintaining his native tongue from here on out, “Patience, Pine Tree. There will be more where that came from, I promise.”

 

When Bill’s other hand trailed down the buttons of his shirt, carefully undoing each one, Dipper suddenly found himself wishing he’d left his room in his nightclothes. This process would be over so much more swiftly if he had, and god did he want this prequel finished. He’d dreamt of this too many times not to be lost in the anticipation as Bill’s fingers finally found purchase against skin instead of fabric, the nails biting in as Bill dragged them across, making thin, parallel welts appear on Dipper’s skin.

 

“A-ah, Bill…,” Dipper’s voice trailed off, too lost in the mixed pain-pleasure sensation to remember where his thoughts were going. The only thought he could begin to hold was the notion that Bill’s waistcoat and shirt were still on and that was a travesty, “Yours too. _Off.”_ Since full sentences clearly weren’t his forte at the moment, Dipper let his hands fill in the blanks, tugging at the fabric and attempting to slide the buttons free from their holes.

 

After a moment of Dipper’s failed attempts and continued frustration, Bill decided to take pity on the brunet, pausing in his exploration of Dipper’s torso to snap his fingers, all clothes but their respective boxers suddenly pulled out of existence. He would feed into Dipper’s desire, but he still wanted a bit of a tease, this was a game he lived for, after all.

 

Dipper’s eyes made an effort to stay open now that he had an entirely new sight to take in. Bill was slim, the bones of his hips visible and pointing down in a V-shape down under the waistband of Bill’s underwear. There were scars littered across his skin and Dipper couldn’t help but reach up and run his fingers over them, gasping at the difference in texture.

 

“Maybe I’ll tell you all about those someday, kid, but tonight’s all about _you._ By the time this is over and done you’re gonna be _exhausted_ and I want you to get some fun out of it. So lay back, kid, _relax,”_ One of Bill’s hands snaked out to grasp Dipper’s, pulling the brunet’s hands away from himself and holding both of Dipper’s wrists above his head as a gold chain materialised, linking around them and attaching them to the posts of the headboard, “ _Much_ better, my _dearest_ Pine Tree. Just let Bill Cipher take _care_ of you.”

 

A flash of a very old fear sparked up in Dipper as he lost use of his hands but it was quickly swallowed by a wave of lust that he could not resist, the loss of control more of a turn on than it should have been, “Whatever you want, Bill. Just.. just _please._ Please…” His voice dropped off into a moan as Dipper arched his back again, pressing the bulge in his boxers against the sharp bone of Bill’s hip, anything for the friction.

 

The purr that sounded from Bill’s chest was something much closer to a growl now, the begging causing his eyes to flash black again before he threw himself back down onto Dipper, attacking his neck and chest with newfound ferocity. Bites drew blood to the surface in red welts and kisses juxtaposed the pain with a strange sort of caring, the cool air against the raising wounds a contrast that had Dipper panting, breath short and interrupted by frequent high pitched keens and broken pleas.

 

With language torn from him, Dipper simply reacted in noises and motions now, contorting into any possible position to keep contact between himself and the demon. It felt like every nerve in his body was on fire, a fire that rooted itself in his belly and his groin, and felt like it was going to consume. And when Bill finally indulged him, trailing his hand down to cup the bulge in Dipper’s underwear, a sharp moan escaped the brunet who writhed beneath him.

 

Chuckling, Bill let the fingers of his other hand elongate into claws as he trailed them across Dipper’s cheeks, trying to convince the brunet to meet his eyes, “You’re _beautiful_ like this, Pine Tree. Broken and pleading beneath me like a little _whore,_ but you’re _so much more_ than that to me.” The dirty words were even harsher in the demonic tongue and Dipper’s eyes rolled back for a moment, panting out a response.

 

“Bill… _please_.. stop _teasing me_ …. Just… _please_ …” The only thing Dipper’s voice could be described as was a whine, cracking at the top as he arched up into Bill’s hand, grinding up into the demon to intimate exactly what he wanted.

 

“Mmm, do you want _these_ off, Pine Tree?” Bill’s clawed hand wandered down to the waistband of Dipper’s underwear, teasing along his hipbones and the edge of the fabric, plucking at it but not moving it any further down.

 

Breath catching, Dipper nodded, words coming out as breathy half-moans, _“Yes,_ ** _please._** And… and yours too…..”

 

“Feeling greedy are we? Well, I do suppose it _is_ your birthday, so perhaps I should grant your wish…” Too self-indulgent to simply snap their last pieces of clothing away, Bill let his clawed fingers sharpen, piercing them through the fabric of Dipper’s shorts and slicing them away, freeing the poor repressed organ that rested within. Towards the end, his finger slipped, cutting into Dipper’s thigh just enough to cause a drop of blood to pool to the surface, “ _Oopsie_ ,” but it was clear from the grin that Bill did not regret the slip as he shifted down the bed to press his mouth to the wound, licking the blood clean.

 

Bill’s mouth so close to the source of Dipper’s frustrations was enough to have the brunet letting out a stream of incoherent moans and curses, trying to shift so that his dick got some of the careful attention Bill was paying to the cut on his thigh, “B-bill, _please._ You’re gonna… drive me _crazy….”_

 

“Mmm, that’s largely the intention, Pine Tree, but I can see you’re beginning to suffer. And really, it would be rude of me to ignore such a lovely part of you…” He bit affectionately at the cut one more time before kissing his way up Dipper’s inner thigh, pulling back just before reaching the arc of the brunet’s penis, “You know.. I’m still a bit hungry.. Didn’t eat enough today… Perhaps I should fix that….”

 

And before Dipper could even prepare himself, the demon was lowering his mouth onto the brunet’s penis, swallowing it to the hilt. There were some benefits to having complete control of his physical form, and removing any gag reflex was one of them. If the ragged scream that escaped Dipper was any indicator, it benefitted the other man as well, and Bill grinned as best as he could around the dick in his mouth.

 

Taking advantage of Dipper’s clearly distracted state, Bill snapped his fingers, covering them in a slick, smooth substance. Long, slim fingers circled the entrance hiding behind Dipper’s balls, prompting a gasp from above and a shift, Dipper grinding down to try to coerce them inside.

 

Humming around Dipper’s dick, Bill complied with the nonverbal request, slipping a single finger inside and pressing into the sides of the passage that awaited him, curling his finger in an attempt to find- ah, if that particular scream was indicator, he’d found Dipper’s prostate. Grinning, Bill pulled back, nipping at the top of Dipper’s dick before swallowing it all in time with another finger pressing into the brunet, both of them scissoring and assaulting the spongy bundle of nerves and causing Dipper to arch off the bed, vacillating between pressing himself into Bill’s mouth and back into the demon’s fingers.

 

 _ **“Bill** _ please. Just _fuck me_ -aah. **Now.”**  There it was, the break in Dipper’s voice again, and this time it was desperate, a keen that stretched out into something akin to a scream, “Or I’m gonna… gonna come early…. _fuck.”_

 

The brunet’s face was screwed up in concentration, clearly trying to hold off his own orgasm, and Bill took pity on him, sliding up off Dipper’s dick and removing his fingers before shifting up so that they were face to face, “Your wish is my command, Pine Tree.”

 

Taking Dipper’s face in one hand, Bill grabbed the brunet’s hip in the other, simultaneously pulling Dipper forward into a kiss of teeth and tongues as he pressed into the man beneath him, coaxing another keen from Dipper’s lips. The demon had to keep his own advice in mind and slowly press into Dipper, patience to keep himself from swiftly and harshly claiming the human beneath him, no matter how tempting it was.

 

And _oh_ was that wet heat tempting.

 

But he wanted Dipper to enjoy this, wanted the brunet coming back begging for more when their spirits were split apart again on Earth, wanted the young man hooked, and thus he entered Dipper in slow, rocking thrusts, going a bit deeper every time amidst a series of hisses and grunts.

 

Bill was rewarded by the gasps and keens that escaped Dipper as the hands above his head grasped at thin air, nothing to give them purchase. The young man was clearly done with Bill’s careful tactic, legs twisting up to wrap around the demon’s waist, “I. Said. _Fuck me.”_

 

And the plea that was now an order was all Bill needed to release any sort of inhibition he might have had, pushing the rest of the way in and beginning to rock at a much faster pace, pressing Dipper down into the mattress with every thrust. The hand on Dipper’s hip was biting deep enough to bruise and the other had found its way into Dipper’s hair again, yanking at it and exposing every angle of the human’s neck.

 

Sharp teeth found every inch of skin there, nipping and licking at it and reddening it until there was no remaining unmarred skin as Bill’s hips snapped back and forth with merciless speed and force. Dipper’s moans and keens were cut short now by gasps and loss of breath, a mess of broken syllables as he arched and panted, eyes clenched shut.

 

“A- _ah_ , _**fuck,**_ Bill.. C-close….” The words were matched by a clenching that Bill felt around his dick that prompted a growl from the demon’s lips. Bill’s eyes shifted from black to a bright, pupil-less gold, a blue light flickering around him as he kissed his way back up Dipper’s neck.

 

“Me too, Pine Tree… _Fuck_ you’re tight. I’m a _lucky demon,”_ the hand in Dipper’s hair came down to cup the human’s face, “Look at me, Dipper. Look right into my eyes… We go together.. We will be… _one.”_

 

When brown eyes opened, Bill moved his hand from Dipper’s hip to his dick, jacking in terms to his thrusts as he began to chant in broken keening spells even Dipper couldn’t translate, though the binding words jumped out at him. The blue light brightened and with it came an intense pleasure, building up to something Dipper wasn’t sure he’d survive, ragged moans escaping him as the speed picked up unbelieveably more.

 

Eyes locked onto Dipper’s, Bill finished off the spell with a yell, burying himself deeply in the young man one last time before a harsh blue light swallowed them both in heat and fire and Dipper lost himself, screaming Bill’s name at the top of his lungs before his eyes rolled back into his head and he passed out, the demon collapsing atop him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm a dirty sinner


	9. A Late Homecoming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dipper and Bill prepare to return to Earth while Mabel mourns the absence of her brother.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello~~ sorry this took a while it's billdip week and i've been writing little things plus a con is coming up so my time is getting crunched~~

Even without the construct of time in the Mindscape, Dipper knew he’d been sleeping for quite some time when he blinked awake. The ambient lighting in Bill’s room was darker than it had been when he’d first been brought here, and when Dipper looked to his left, he saw that Bill was still sound asleep, if the lack of motion told him anything.

 

Sometime in the night, the demon had shifted off of him and turned away, hiding the myriad of scars that Dipper had seen but revealing instead an intricate maze of runes, lines upon lines of Bill’s own script tattooed on his back in every direction, all leading to the point between his shoulder blades that was starkly blank by contrast. Looking closer, Dipper noticed that it seemed the blank triangle was somehow added later, as several of the runes leading in to the edges cut off abruptly, and words were left unfinished, phrases missing their ends.

 

A piece of the puzzle was missing, and it left Dipper puzzled as he set about trying to read the sprawling text, tilting his head from side to side.

 

YIC WFS PSFSVY TWKJST DI AWDUP IBSF DPS FSWLK IR TFSWKE WJT UIJTSKJST DI JSBSF FSDCFJ DI SWFDP AODPICD W BSEESL. W HWLWUS YIC KWY KWMS IR YICF HFOEIJ, VCD W HFOEIJ EDOLL AOLL OD VS. YIC KCED LOBS IRR DPS HWOJ WJT DPS RSWF IR DPS OJJIUSJD, AODPICD OD YIC AOLL HSFOEP. SBSJ QOBSJ LORS IJ SWFDP, YIC KCED KWOJDWOJ DPS KOJTEUWHS IF HSFOEP AODP OD. YICF LORS OE PSFSVY DOST DI DPS TFSWKE WJT JOQPDKWFSE IR SWFDP'E TSJOXSJE, WKIJQ APIK YIC EI LIJQ DI AWLM. W FSWLK YIC AWJDST WJT W FSWLK YIC ASFS QFWJDST. AOEPSE TI JID WLAWYE FSUSOBS HFIHSF QORDE. DI SJECFS RWOFJSEE, DPSFS OE IJS SZOD, IJS AWY ICD IR DPOE HFOEIJ PSLL YIC FCLS. YIC KCED TFWA W PCKWJ OJDI YICF ULCDUPSE WJT KWMS DPSK YICF MSY, LSD DPSK DWMS RFIK YIC DPS LIUM WJT DPS KWJWULSE WJT HLWUS DPSK IJ DPSKESLBSE, WJT FSDCFJ YIC VIDP DI DPS FSWLK IR DPS LOBOJQ. DPOE PCKWJ KCED TSBIDS DPSKESLBSE DI YIC APILSPSWFDSTLY WJT IRRSF DPSKESLBSE CH AOLLOJQLY, WJT IJLY AODP DPSOF WOT UWJ YIC KWMS YICF SEUWHS. DPS PCKWJ KCE-

 

The sentence ended there, though, and Dipper frowned at the missing text. The existing bits were very interesting, bits and pieces of what appeared to be Bill’s curse, but the sudden break in the text left him feeling a bit uneasy. Something told him whatever text was meant to be inside that triangle of olive skin was important.

 

Reaching out, Dipper touched his fingers to the smooth edge of the triangle, expecting a difference in texture between the tattooed skin and the blank, but the transition was smooth, as if the ink had simply risen to the surface rather than been imprinted. And, considering the contents, perhaps it had, called forth from the ichor that ran in Bill’s veins. A contract sealed in blood was the strongest, after all.

 

It seemed the soft touch was enough to rouse the demon, a low groan escaping Bill’s lips as he rolled his shoulders, displacing Dipper’s hand before he turned around, resting his head in his hand as he looked over at the brunet. Bill’s hair was sinfully mussed, no longer hiding the pitch black eye it usually covered.

 

Bill’s mouth was curled up in a lazy smile as he reached out with his free hand, brushing Dipper’s hair off his forehead and tracing the birthmark there, “Enjoying a bit of morning reading, were you?”

 

Unbidden, a flush rose to Dipper’s cheeks and he bit his lip before trying to nonchalantly laugh Bill’s question off, “You should know by now, I can’t resist learning something new. And I could always use practice reading your runes.”

 

Humming, Bill suppressed a yawn, shrugging, “I wasn’t complaining, Pine Tree. If I didn’t want you to see those, you wouldn’t have seen them. But we are one now, what’s mine is yours, and that includes my secrets, though some of those will come in time.”

 

There was an intimacy to the exchange, and something new in the way Bill’s lips curled into lazier smiles and more content grins. The demon looked almost catlike in his satisfaction, eyes still half lidded with sleep. And the somewhat possessive gleam in those eyes had Dipper flushing, images of the night prior rising unbidden to his mind.

 

Sensing his thoughts, Bill chuckled and closed the distance between them to kiss the brunet. Slim fingers worked their way into Dipper’s hair as the demon pressed himself close, their mouths locked together and before long they were gasping for breath. With a soft laugh, Bill bit Dipper’s lip as he pulled away to press another light kiss to the largest and darkest of the bruises, a blossoming bite mark with imprints at the juncture of Dipper’s neck and shoulder.

 

“You’ve never looked more _ravishing,_ my Pine Tree, but I’m afraid that will have to wait. We have a portal to open.” And perhaps Dipper was disappointed by the statement for a moment, aching already for the demon’s touch, but the promise of a return to Earth quickly silenced that.

 

Today was the day everything began, for real.

 

The sun rose in Gravity Falls as it had risen every cloudless day for the past six years, shrouded in a thin layer of fog that it would burn through by midday. The sun did not have a care in the world, it did not know that under it’s uncaring gaze, a girl stared out of the window of the attic of the Mystery Shack and wondered if her brother could see her through it.

 

Every image of Bill Cipher was a window of the Mindscape, Ford had taught her that, and she’d been wary of them ever since, but she couldn’t help herself from looking through them forlornly, hoping beyond hope that Dipper happened to be looking at the same moment and would see her, would see how sorry she was and see that things were different. And that maybe he’d come back.

 

Needless to say, he never had.

With a sigh, Mabel turned away from the window and got up off the ledge. The room remained untouched from when her brother left it, aside from the fact that she came up once a week to dust everything off. When Dipper came back, she wanted everything to be ready for him, as if he’d never left, as if he’d just gone out for an adventure in the woods and would come home with leaves in his hair and a grin on his face to scribble in his journal for hours before passing out on top of his sheets.

 

The memory was familiar enough to bring a small, sad smile to Mabel’s face and force a blade of ice through her heart. It had been six years since she’d come close to seeing something like that, six years since her brother had ranted to her about some new creature he’d found in the forest, six years since she rolled over in bed and told him to shut up, to be a dork to someone else for a change, six years since she’d heard the shift in his voice, the apology and the sound of fabric shifting as Dipper curled up under his blankets to drift off to sleep.

 

Before Mabel knew it, there were tears running down her cheeks as guilt knotted her stomach. Rushing to the door, she pulled it shut behind her as she left Dipper’s room, hearing the lock click with a frown.

 

Maybe Ford was right. Maybe Dipper really was never coming back.

 

Their parents had called curious a couple of times, but Ford and Stan made quick work placating them. Dipper had been accepted to a prestigious boarding school, they’d said, and he was unable to return home for visits. Their parents were understanding, excited by their son’s prowess, and ceded to the idea. It was laughable how careless they were about their own children.

 

It was with a trudging gate that Mabel made her way downstairs, staring into the fridge for a moment before deciding against breakfast. She wasn’t feeling very hungry, and cooking was too much work. A cup of coffee, though, she could do. Something to get her up and ready for the day of grinning for the tourists that would be shown through the Shack’s many rooms- Ford had agreed to keep it up and running until they figured out what to do with the Portal as a means of income for his research materials, and Stan had readily agreed.

 

The two still fought and had their differences, but their guilt over Dipper’s betrayal had united them and they spent long nights in the basement poring over blueprints and old books on demonology, anything and everything that might help bring Dipper back alive. As of yet, they hadn’t found a solution, and both of them were looking worse for wear, perpetual shadows under their eyes and a drawn quality to their faces, skin thin over bone.

 

Perhaps it was more accurate to say that all three of them looked that way these days, none of them could boast a good night’s sleep in years and all of them skipped meals more often than they took them. It just felt wrong looking at the empty chair in the dining room, took their appetites away.

 

The beeping of the machine told Mabel that the coffee was done and she poured herself a cup, dumping several spoonfuls of sugar in before taking a sip of the black liquid, leaning against the kitchen counter with a weary sigh. What she wouldn’t give for a full night’s sleep these days, she was almost certain they’d find a solution in no time if they were all well rested, but that just wasn’t a reality, it seemed.

 

At first, it had been obvious that the nightmares were of Bill’s making. Scene after scene was thrown in Mabel’s face as she slept, every single time she’d turned Dipper away, every single time she’d used him and forgotten to thank him, every single time she’d ignored his own wants and needs to further herself. She woke up screaming and crying for nights on end, and she could still hear that cold laugh in her ears.

 

 _“You_ did this, Shooting Star. Remember that when you glare at my page of the journal with anger. You did this to Dipper and you did this to _yourself.”_

 

The quote was repeated over and over in a dozen different ways, to the point where Mabel woke up scratching it into her skin or writing it over and over on a sheet of paper, scrawled over her own text and scribbled into the margins.

 

That quote was branded on her skin, emblazoned on her heart, and she could not get it out of her head. So many times had she heard it that she began to repeat it to herself. It was the truth, after all.

 

The sound of footsteps on the stairs drew Mabel’s attention and she made her way into the sitting room, knowing that her two great uncles would soon emerge from the basement, hollow cheeked and ragged eyed, with ‘no news as of yet’. A nap of only a couple of hours would sustain them before Stan opened the Shack and Ford cracked open yet another centuries old book, reading himself blind behind his glasses.

 

It was sad, how predictable their days were, but it was the only path they had. They all wanted Dipper back and somewhere there had to be a way to get him back. All they had to do was keep searching and eventually they would find the solution.

 

The snack machine swung open on hidden hinges and Stan and Ford stumbled out, looking ruffled and forlorn as usual. Mabel had long stopped awaiting them with hopeful smiles only to be disappointed, now she simply nodded understandingly from the door jamb and went back to sipping her coffee

 

Only to have the mug slip from her hands as the whole house shook, furniture rising from the floor before crashing back down, some topped and others broken. Mabel’s mug lay shattered on the floor, coffee seeping into the carpet, but no one bothered to clean it up. All three of them looked back at the snack machine and spoke in tandem with an odd sense of deja vu.

  
“The Portal.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i love cliffhangers and pain
> 
> (the key to the cipher is atbash and caesar, if anyone wants to translate it for themselves~ also, if you'd like to see what it looks like in actual runes, the image is here https://gyazo.com/68f6296132dcedb3ec3b1e759025a3d7 )


	10. Home Sweet Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone loves a pleasant family reunion six years in the making.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this took forever, my life was consumed with con prep and work rip

Mabel, Stan, and Ford made their way back through the secret door in the snack machine, rushing down the stairs and tapping their feet as the elevator moved at a pace that was altogether too slow. No one was in the house to activate the portal from this side, and that could only mean one thing: someone had opened it from the other side.

 

“I thought you said Cipher couldn’t get out through there?” Even in their mad dash, Stan found time to corner Ford, accusation in his eyes as they waited for the elevator to make its descent.

 

As always, Ford was quick to the defensive, pointing in his brother’s face, “He _can’t._ He’s bound to the Mindscape, he can’t open a door on his own.”

 

A shadow fell over Ford’s face as he said that, and it was mirrored on Stan’s, who spoke their thoughts with disdain, “Then he didn’t open it alone.”

 

Never one to distrust her brother so, Mabel stepped between the two of them, still clutching on to a hope she thought had died years ago, “Maybe it’s not Bill at all! Maybe Dipper found his own way back and opened the Portal himself! He’d be able to do that… right?”

 

Her tentative smile fell when Ford’s head shook back and forth, a resigned frown on his face, “That Portal doesn’t have a switch on the other side, sweetie. If he found it on his own, he would have had to wait until someone over here opened it again. In order to open it… he would have needed help. And the only other person in that hell with him… is Bill Cipher.”

 

The elevator clicked into place and the doors slid open to the Portal room, where the flashing lights and mechanical sounds were yet more evidence of the door opening. If there had been any doubt about what was occurring, it was cleared up now.

 

The Portal was about to open, and none of them had any idea what would be coming out of it.

 

* * *

 

 

On the other side of the gate between worlds, Bill Cipher held a thin obsidian blade in his left hand, cutting into the flesh of his right. In the place of crimson blood, jet ichor bubbled up from the cuts, pooling on his skin and dripping down his arm. Though there was no such thing as smell in the Mindscape, Dipper imagined the scent of sulfur rising up from the liquid, like iron in human blood.

 

Bill’s gold eye was trained very carefully on the design he was etching, and Dipper couldn’t help but follow that gaze, staring at the intricate mess of lines. Runes were inset into the spaces between the lines that criss-crossed Bill’s palm, a more complex sigil than any Dipper had seen or learnt. Only through the courtesy of Bill’s careful handwriting and avoidance of smearing the lines of ichor could Dipper read a few of the runes, but the singular meanings did not flow seamlessly into one another.

 

Spirit. Tear. Bound. One. Door.

 

The rest were too entwined in the lines of the sigil itself for Dipper to read, though he could imagine what its purpose was, even though he could not read the spell in its entirety. The gist was all he needed to trust that Bill would be getting them back through that portal with whatever he was doing.

 

Finished, Bill tossed the obsidian knife into oblivion, the blade disappearing to some shelf or other in the palace before it touched the ground. He admired his own handiwork, the lines a hairsbreadth apart in places, but not touching. A smirk touched the demon’s lips as he held the hand out to Dipper, palm up.

 

“I can hear Earth calling to us, Pine Tree. What do you say we give it an answer?”

 

With an answering grin and a determined glint in his eye, Dipper took Bill’s right hand in his left and was promptly pulled forward by the demon. Not expecting the tug, Dipper stumbled forward only to be caught by the demon’s other arm around his waist. A single golden iris stared into Dipper’s for a moment before the pupil was consumed by bright gold and a chain of blue fire burst out to ensnare their entwined hands. Bill leant forward, claiming Dipper’s lips in a searing kiss that had brown eyes slipping closed as the world fell to pieces around them.

 

Once again, the sensation of being simultaneously in motion and still consumed Dipper and his eyes flashed open in shock just in time to watch Bill’s form implode into liquid gold and consume him. Brown eyes shifted to the same iridescent gold of Bill’s when casting magic for a moment, the birthmark on Dipper’s forehead glowing white hot before the moment passed and Dipper was alone hurtling through the purgatory between worlds.

 

A nudge of amused warmth from a corner of his mind reminded Dipper that he was far from alone, he and Bill were one now, and he would never be alone.

 

That knowledge made the seemingly endless tumult through blackness much more bearable than it had been the last time and the smile never left Dipper’s face as the Portal and the world beyond it came into view. Not wanting to be spat out disgracefully, Dipper put a hand out to catch himself on the swift motion of time, placing one foot forward just as the Portal met him.

 

With a smirk on his face and one hand out to the side, still dripping ichor, Dipper Pines stepped back into the world of the living.

 

“Wow, a welcoming party. Here I thought you’d have all moved away by now, forgotten all about me…” Looking around, Dipper pursed his lips with a sigh, “Really, it might have been better if you all had. This is just going to hurt you more.”

 

Once again, Mabel was the first to reach the platform, looking up into her brother’s eyes with pleading and a twisted sort of hope before anger flared up there, “Get out of my brother’s body you isosceles freak!”

 

“Sorry sis, this is all me. Not to say that Bill isn’t here, but I’m in control. And I really should be going, I have work to do.” And with that, Dipper was brushing past her, though Mabel wasn’t about to let him go without a fight.

 

She grabbed his wrist with a grip like a vice, but the black ichor still dripping from the sigil that was now burnt into his hand seared her where she touched it, biting into her skin like acid as she forced herself to hold on, “You’re _lying._ I _know_ Dipper, you _can’t_ be him.”

 

Sighing, Dipper turned with a glare on his face, ripping his hand out from hers, “Wrong again. I’ve told you once, I’m not going to tell you again, Mabel. I see you still can’t listen to me or understand me. Nothing’s changed.”

 

The last two words were spit in his sister’s face which crumpled into tears, Mabel falling to the floor as he turned on his heel again, meeting the eyes of his two great uncles.

 

“How quaint. Are you going to try to stop me? I certainly hope not, because I have plans for you, and I’d like not to have to end them prematurely…”

 

“Dipper, you’ve still got a chance to stop this, to call this whole thing off. Bill doesn’t have physical form yet, he can’t hold you to your deal without it, not if you banish him back to the Mindscape right now. I can _help_ you, Dipper. I can stop this before it gets out of hand,” Ford was taking slow steps forward as he spoke, hands up to show he meant no threat. Despite his own misgivings, there was a bit of cautious hope in the set of his mouth, “Let’s end this before it can start, Dipper.”

 

For the barest second, compassion crossed Dipper’s face before it was consumed with a condescending sneer and the brunet laughed in his great uncle’s face, “You’re a fool, Ford. I _want_ this, Bill and I are in this _together._ And please, stop acting like you care about me at all. You just know that I did better in the Mindscape than you did and you’ve got to watch yourself now that I’m back. Why don’t you go build yourself a fortress? It’ll be fun to tear down later.”

 

The hope in Ford’s eyes, too, shattered and was replaced with a cold rage, “He’s poisoned you, Dipper. It won’t be long before you’re blackened beyond saving. Don’t come running to me then. Bill Cipher will use you and toss you aside, he’s a demon, that’s all he knows. He does not care for you, don’t delude yourself into thinking he does. To him, you’re a toy, just like _everyone else._ You’re not special to him, Dipper. No one is.”

 

Despite himself, Dipper felt the cut of Ford’s words and his mouth thinned out into a flat line. He threw his branded hand out to the side before pulling it in towards him again, eyes flashing bright gold as he pulled Ford towards himself by sole virtue of magic, “You’re _wrong.”_

 

Another flick of the wrist send Ford flying, hitting the computers with enough impact to draw a grunt of pain from the old man but not near enough to injure him beyond repair. Ford had a role yet to play in their grand scheme and Dipper wasn’t about to risk that in a fit of rage. Ford’s words meant nothing, Ford _knew_ nothing.

 

A soothing wave of power rolled over him from Bill’s corner of his mind and for a moment Dipper’s eyes rolled back into his head, consumed by gold. He could feel the demon’s amused pleasure at Ford’s pain and took pride in sharing in it, in _causing_ it, even.

 

_“Don’t listen to them, Pine Tree. Remember, **they** betrayed you. **I** never have.”_

_“I know, Bill. I know their words mean nothing. They’re pawns on our chessboard, nothing more. I am sorry for letting his words get to me, even if just for a moment.”_

_“That’s alright, my Pine Tree. They are still your family, after all, no matter how terrible of a family they may be. You cannot help your base human affections. We must simply work around them. I have faith in you.”_

 

Eyes shifting back to brown, Dipper pulled away from the voice in the back of his mind to look into the eyes of the only person left standing between him and the exit.

 

“I’m not gonna try to stop you, kid. I know better than to try that, and I’m not one to place bets on losing horses. Ford can throw himself at you but I like my spine in one piece, and I can see you’re not the same boy I said good night to six years ago.”

 

Flipping his hair from over his face, Dipper snorted, shrugging his shoulders, “Glad to see one of you has some common sense left. I was beginning to wonder how I was possibly related to any of you.” The brunet shouldered past Stan, barely turning back to leave his parting remark, “But don’t think that earns you any points, Stan. You wronged me just as they did, and it’s time you paid penance for that.”

 

A deep frown settled on the old man’s face and he took off his hat, holding it out to Dipper with an unreadable emotion in his eyes, “Just. Know that if you ever change your mind… there will always be a home for you, a sanctuary. Even if we have to fight off Bill Cipher with our bare hands, we will be here for you. Because we’re your family.”

 

After a moment of thought, Dipper reached out and took the hat, a shocked and hopeful expression crossing Stan’s face before he could school it back into blankness. “Thanks, Grunkle Stan, but I’ve got all the family I need right here.” And he held up his left hand, emblazoned with the sigil, before dropping the hat and letting it fall to the ground, a bit of blue flame singing the tassel’s edges, blackening the gold as he stepped into the elevator and left, the remaining members of the Pines Family staring into the space he’d once occupied with varying expressions.

 

Mabel stared at the door and watched her brother walk away, once the closest person in her life now someone she barely knew.

 

Ford stared at the door and watched a visible reminder of his failure step into the world, surely set upon wreaking havoc wherever he went.

 

Stan stared at the door and watched his chance at watching a pair of Pines twins much happier than his brother and himself catch fire and burn itself to ashes.

 

For the first time since Dipper left for the Mindscape, all three of the Pines wished he hadn’t returned.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i love to suffer


	11. Blood and Ashes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All it takes is a little bit of blood to unleash hell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please be warned there is LOTS OF BLOOD AND MURDER in this chapter so if violence squicks you out please be careful <3

The first step to achieving their master plan was to find a place to live, well hidden from his family’s prying eyes and ears. Money wasn’t an issue, Bill had a nearly unlimited supply of gold that he could convert into cash with a snap of his fingers.

 

Yet another benefit of working with a demon, Dipper supposed.

 

A snap of his fingers and a momentary lurch in his stomach, the air forced from his lungs in one blow, and he was standing in an alleyway in a city about twenty miles away- far enough to be certain none of the Gravity Falls denizens would find him here. Those people rarely left their homes, let alone their sheltered little community. He would be safe here- they would be safe here.

 

Because Bill was still entirely present, humming amusedly at the whole exchange with his family, but eager to be back in a body again.

 

_“Once we get this house set up, Pine Tree, we’ve got a bit of **business** to attend to…”_

A chuckle escaped the brunet and he sent a reassuring thought toward the demon’s corner of his mind, a smirk on his lips, _“Don’t you worry, Bill. I know my part of the deal remains unfulfilled. You’ll have your body soon enough, just give me time to find a place to house it. With what we have in mind, it’ll be best to have a base of operations.”_

_“Mm, fine, I suppose I can wait a few hours yet. Just pay it all up front, I’ll make sure they don’t think anything of it.”_

_“Thanks for that. I’d rather not have the cops showing up asking where I came up with a couple hundred thousand in cash.”_

The only response that came from the demon was a cackle before Bill settled back down, appeased with his promise of a body before sundown.

 

It didn’t take long for Dipper to find a studio apartment landlord who was more than happy to sign up the young man with a briefcase full of hundred dollar bills. A couple of flourished false signatures under the name of Tyrone Willow later and he was the proud owner of a penthouse studio loft. Sure it was no palace, but it would do for the moment.

 

The palace could come later, when their plans were put into motion.

 

Dipper unlocked the door to their loft and looked around with approval. It was more than enough space for a home base, somewhere to rest between their tasks and somewhere to lie low when necessary. No one would come looking for a young man fresh into college when the horrors began, especially when he lived so far from the fun.

 

Humans just didn’t consider teleportation an option these days, what a pity. All the better for them, though.

 

Another snap of the fingers and the empty space was well furnished, a table and a couch in the living room, a television in case they ever bothered to check the news. The kitchen came prepared with all the necessities, so Dipper was only left to decorate the bedroom, which, upon entering, was quite spacious.

 

 _“I trust you’ll be liberal with the decoration here, Pine Tree. This is the only room I intend on using regularly.”_ Even in his own head, the statement was made with a purr that had a shiver curling down Dipper’s spine and he couldn’t stop himself from nodding.

 

A bit more thought was put into the bedroom, Dipper trying his best to recreate the room Bill occupied in the Mindscape. Some of the pieces Bill would have to conjure up himself, as Dipper couldn’t quite grasp them through the rift between worlds, but the furniture he could manage. A clenched fist and a bright gold light colouring his birthmark preceded the transition, soundless and yet loud all at once.

 

When he opened his eyes, the room that came into view was nearly perfect, only Bill’s shelves of odds and ends and books missing.

 

 _ **“Excellent,** Pine Tree… Better than I expected. Nearly perfect.”_ Dipper was panting at the effort of moving so many things from Bill’s world into his, but the praise made it all worth it, a warmth blossoming in his chest and his stomach.

 

 _“You’ll get to touch it all soon enough, Bill. See what everything you own feels like in the real world, not just the sensations you assign them…”_ And the heat that came in response to that was nearly overwhelming, Dipper grabbing the bedside table and laughing, _“Now, do you intend on giving me a bit of guidance, or am I just going to kill blindly until I do it right? Because while I’m willing to do that, it might be a bit… time consuming.”_

 

Another laugh came in response and Dipper could tell Bill was smirking somewhere in the Mindscape, _“I’ll be here the whole time, Pine Tree. And I’ll take your hands if I feel it’s necessary, but I think I can show you what needs to be done.”_

_“And the victim is meaningless, right? I want to save the named faces for a later date.”_

_“Precisely. It doesn’t matter who you kill, all it matters is how you do it. And I’ll make sure everything’s perfect.”_

 

Dipper nodded, reaching into his jacket to pull out the dagger Bill had given him on his birthday, taking another look at the intricate runes carved into it. Even without reading them, he could tell this was a powerful blade, it thrummed under his fingers and sang out for blood. A smirk tugged at his lips as he stepped out of the door, pulling the hood of his sweater up around his face. The knife slipped back into its sheath up his sleeve and he made his way down out onto the street, still grinning.

 

A return to the dark alley preceded Dipper forcing himself through space and time again, this time to Portland, a big city where a little murder could go unnoticed. A murder close by would draw his great uncles’ attention, but one in Portland? They likely wouldn’t even hear of it.

 

This time, the strain on his body was greater and he paused a moment, coughing as he tried to suck air back into his lungs and fill the vacuum there.

 

“ _Good thing I’ll be bringing us home, kid, you’re a mess. Earth’s physics aren’t treating you kindly on your first day back.”_

Pulling his hand away from his mouth, Dipper grimaced at the blood visible there, rubbing it off on a nearby wall before shaking his head and trying to clear his throat, “I’m fine. Just getting used to the resistance, is all.”

 

Bill responded with a hum before settling back into his corner, clearly excited for the coming exchange.

 

Dipper took note of his surroundings, looking from the alleyway into the street. Dozens of cars passed by each minute, everyone focused on commuting home from their days of work. Business districts were always busy this time of day, and that made the commuters all too easy targets, especially for someone with his skillset.

 

Manipulating thoughts was beyond him in his current state, exhausted as he was, but a bit of an illusion was still possible. Brown eyes caught sight of a young woman walking past the alley and for a moment his eyes flashed gold, the street changing in front of her in her mind’s eye. She turned into the alley, seeing it as the street that led to her home, and she walked right into Dipper’s arms before he pressed a hand to her head, knocking her out cold.

 

_“Going to play nicely tonight, are we?”_

_“I don’t want to deal with any screaming, I don’t have the energy to soundproof the area tonight, and I’d rather not have the police on my tail.”_

_“Fair enough. Just so long as you get the job done, Pine Tree.”_

_“I won’t fail you, Bill. You know I won’t.”_

 

A series of images flashed across Dipper’s mind’s eye after that, instructions in vivid, visual format, complete with the physical sensations to match. His hands knew where they needed to be, his fingers already twitching for the knife. When his eyes opened again, there was a glow behind them, not the glow of possession but of influence, Bill’s presence making itself known.

 

“I understand.”

 

The dagger slipped forward from his sleeve and he started by cutting a gash into his left arm, coating the knife in blood before binding the wound with a strip of fabric torn from the woman’s shirt- she wouldn’t be needing it much longer anyway.

 

His arm stung, but the adrenaline of what was coming drew his mind away from the pain as he laid the woman on the ground, kneeling over her prone form. The sigil burnt into his hand tingled as he took hold of the knife again, cutting the remaining fabric away from her. Once, perhaps, this might have excited him, but all of the skin exposed to the cold night air was not sensual to him now, all it spoke of was an empty canvas on which to draw Bill’s runes.

 

Quick slashes and curves tore her skin in even layers, the blood running in rivulets down from the cuts. His handiwork wasn’t quite as good as Bill’s might have been, but the years of practice meant he had all of the runes down at least, without a missed stroke.

 

Once, he nearly missed and Bill hissed in the back of his mind, swiftly taking control with a shift of brown eyes to liquid gold. Dipper’s hands found their proper place and the blade cut in smoothly, one rune nicer than all of the rest, before Bill returned Dipper’s body, settling back in his mind with excited energy.

 

Brown eyes watched as the blood dripped down around her, forming a summoning circle rather than a simply pool of blood. The golden glow backlit his eyes, the blade in his hand matching it in intensity as the sigil on the back of his hand burned.

 

_“This last bit requires a bit of push and shove, do forgive me.”_

And that was the only warning Dipper received before Bill assumed control once again, fully forward as he took the knife in hand and plunged the blade into her heart. Her body, weakened by blood loss, arched in a final spasm of pain before falling back to the ground. The rest of the lines of the summoning circle were swiftly filled with blood, the ground hissing and crackling beneath her, and with a flash of light, Dipper fell backwards, head knocking against the concrete alley street.

 

“Good _morning_ , Pine Tree!”

 

Brown eyes blinked open at the excited voice, coming from without rather than within this time, and he caught sight of Bill standing over him, the only difference from the last time Dipper had seen him face to face the blood dripping from the corner of his mouth and the much less ostentatious outfit he was wearing.

 

“It worked…”

 

“Of course it did, Pine Tree! You did a wonderful job, why wouldn’t it work?” Bill offered a gloved hand to Dipper, helping him up off the ground and dusting him off before sidling up and pressing his mouth to Dipper’s ear, that purr already back in his voice, “I trusted my work to good hands, you did this so  _beautifully.”_

 

 

Dipper’s arm was starting to throb from the wound he’d cut into his own flesh, but his body was melting at the words, a hand naturally falling to Bill’s waist and pulling the demon closer. The spark of heat from actual touch had Dipper gasping and the demon growling, pressing closer still, “You’re here… on Earth… in the flesh…”

 

“Yes, and I intend to make good use of it.”

 

A snap of Bill’s fingers had them both tumbling through emptiness for a moment again before falling with grace onto the bed in their room, Bill’s back pressed against the mattress with Dipper yanked on top of him.

 

“I want you to fuck me _raw,_ I want to feel _every second of it._ **_Really_ ** feel it.”

 

Bill’s voice had dropped into the low, growling tone that Dipper now knew to be a sign of arousal, matched with the pupil nearly swallowing his golden eye. With a hand, he tugged the eyepatch away from Bill’s solid black eye, staring into both with a smirk on his face. Dipper’s hands were already making swift work of the buttons of Bill’s shirt, nails catching on the skin revealed beneath as his mouth worked its way up Bill’s throat, biting and kissing until he reached his ear.

 

“With _pleasure,_ Bill.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bill's such a bottom bitch
> 
> ( i might write that smut as an aside later )


End file.
